


Coffee, Therapy and Other Stories of Love and Friendship

by fanderstothestanders



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 80's Music, A Boatload of Sass, AFAB NB OC, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Bars/Alcohol mention, Blood and Injury, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Siblings, Disaster Gays, Fluff, Let me know if you need anything else tagged, M/M, Meet-Cute, Multi, Mutual Pining all around, No alcoholism though, Patton is a heartbroken sweetheart, Platonic Lomile, Platonic PatSleep, Platonic RoSleep - Freeform, Punk Teenagers, Remy and Deceit are cousins, Sex Jokes, Slice of Life, Swearing, Therapy, chaotic gay energy, platonic sleepxiety - Freeform, self-deprication, tattoo parlor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2020-09-18 18:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanderstothestanders/pseuds/fanderstothestanders
Summary: Remy had never been very good at love. For a long time, he ignored that and accepted it as part of his life. He wasn't meant for lasting love. But then, he met Emile Picani. Suddenly, he sees and hears love everywhere... And this time, he's going to do something about it.





	1. Chapter 1

“ Sooooo, you’ve been awfully quiet this evening. Did your Prince Charming show up at Starbucks again?” Virgil had made the mistake of telling Remy dozens of stories about this annoying _ , privileged, cocky, over-eager  _ _ flirt _ who’d recently become a regular during his shifts. Remy swore that he heard wedding bells whenever his roommate slammed the door behind him, groaning about whatever shenanigans ‘Princey’ had been putting him through this evening. But tonight, Virgil was deadly silent, until Remy broke the silence by antagonizing him.

His pale and disheveled friend snorted, trying (and failing) to hide his flush. He sat up straight as a board and scoffed, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Just because we’re friends and I’m your caffeine dealer, doesn’t mean I owe you my life story.”

“Okay then, bitch. Not like I’m trying to  _ help _ ,” Remy remarked, holding his hands at eye level, “ if you don’t want to talk about  _ your  _ love life, can we talk about  _ mine _ ? I met the most incredible person today.”

This was a scene Virgil had grown used to over the years he’d been friends with Remy. It seemed to the young man that every week his more vocal counterpart found a new love of his life, so wonderful and beautiful and amazing and lovely and sweet and  _ ohforfuck’ssake their butt, Virge _ . And it also seemed that he moved on just as quickly, and Virgil almost grew tired of asking for details he could forget in a short few days' time. But, it placated Remy and kept his nose out of business that didn’t concern him, for one particular instance, a recent regular at Virgil’s work. He laughed and inquired with mock-sincerity, “Okay, you’ve piqued my interest. What’s his name, or have you even taken the luxury of speaking to this guy before deciding he’s a perfect dream?”

“Virgil, I  _ know  _ you’re not trying to sass ME,” the starry-eyed man gasped, “ because, for your information, I have spoken to him. His name’s Emile. He has, like,  the cutest laugh I have ever heard, and just the most fucking gorgeous eyes. And, get this Virge, he’s a  _ doctor _ .” Remy seemed to be floating around their living room, off in another world as he gushed about this mystery man, clutching a throw pillow to his chest. Virgil had to forcibly restrain the chuckles he’d felt bubbling in his chest. He pushed down his urge to laugh at his lovestruck friend, instead choosing to question him further.

“Why were you at a doctor’s office? Isn’t that on the other side of town from the bar?” Virgil questioned, eyebrows raised, elbows folded on the table, cradling his head.

His friend sprung from his dreamland to join Virgil at the table, leaning on his palms and sinking to his friend's eye level.  _ This is going to be quite a story,  _ Virgil thought to himself with a smirk, nodding Remy on to continue. “Okay, so, you remember my cousin Dorian? Teenager, with the scar and compulsive lying habit?” Virgil flashed him an annoyed glare, conveying to his dear companion just  _ how well  _ he remembered the little terror who’d tried to destroy his life the last time they’d crossed paths. That day stood a testament to Virgil that having dual verification on his phone was a necessity, not a luxury. Remy caught the chills from the icy stare his best friend shot him, cringing before continuing, “Gurl… anyway, Dorian called me while I was on my way to the Leaning Shot earlier tonight for my closing shift. He sounded a little uneasy, but he asked me if I could come to pick him up from his appointment. Y’know, I was hesitant after what happened last time he and I hung out (Sorry again, by the way. He’s a little shit with serious issues with new people). But then, he told me that his folks were heading out of town tonight and he’d forgotten his bus pass at home before leaving for his therapy appointment with this new doctor. So I gave Joan a call and let them know I’d be late, turned my bike around and drove the 40 minutes before pulling up in front of the place. It was pretty much empty, but I went inside and spoke to this nurse/secretary person, who told me my cousin was waiting for me to show up, and that he’d go fetch him from Dr. Picani’s office. I asked him if it would be okay if I followed. He nodded me along, we walk down this hallway and I could  _ hear Dorian laughing _ ! A rare occurrence, I know. I curiously asked the nurse guy if this was something that happened a lot, and he grinned and said, “Absolutely. Dr. Picani has a great rapport with kids. His patients are some of the most varied I’ve ever seen here. But his success rate speaks for itself. Forgive me for saying so, but I feel I must warn you- parents tend to find him a bit, for lack of better phrasing, silly. So, please, before you ask, yes he is a qualified professional.” And now I’m worried, but then we stop in front of this multi-colored door with a plaque that says- ‘Dr. Emile Picani: Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist’, and he knocks about three times before the door swings open and there’s Dorian, grinning from ear to ear as this figure lunges at us with a dulled rapier in hand, mid-monologue apparently, looking straight at Dorian’s fixated eyes. “And so then Gomez leaps from the balcony and takes to dueling with his ‘normal’ neighbor, all while Wednesday and Pugsley are running down the stairs to catch Thing, so as not to totally incapacitate this visito- Oh my goodness, Logan, I barely heard you come in! You almost caught the wrong end of an Addams Family cartoon.” This strange man let out a giggle, and I swear to all the unholy beings, I almost melted right there. The nurse- er- Logan, chuckled, and turned to my little nightmare, dismissing whatever exercise he’d walked into, and stated matter-of-factly “Dorian, I believe this is your father-” “Cousin,” I’d almost shouted! “Yes, well, your cousin, here to fetch you. Doctor, you’re finished for the day. Elliot called an hour ago to let you know he won’t be in tonight.” Then, the stranger turned to me and shook my hand so vigorously I thought my arm would fall off. He looked at me with a rush of joyful energy and introduced himself, with a voice that was sweet as honey, gasping, “ You must be Remy! I’ve heard so much about you! Dorian talks about you all the time, you must be quite the role model,” he added with a wink, “ I am Dr. Picani, but you may call me Emile. Isn’t that funny- I just realized, you’re Remy and  _ I’m  _ Emile. You know, like the characters from the Disney/Pixar movie  _ Ratatouille _ ! Well, how about that?” Then he looked me in the eyes, and Virgil, I am telling you he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. And he  _ looks  _ like the sexy, human equivalent of a mug of hot cocoa on a cold winter’s night. Short, and charmingly nerdy, with a warm sweater and a pastel pink tie and hair I just wanna run my hands through endlessly. So, anywho, after I’d stood there in shock for a good minute, really making an ass out of myself,  _ and not the fun kind _ , Dorian got up and elbowed me in the ribs. I sputtered out a laugh and said, “ Yeah, I guess that depends, handsome, do you cook or do you control someone else through weird Pavlovian response to do it for you?” (“You really leaned into the metaphor, didn’t you, Rem?” “I KNOW, ughhhh” “Finish the tale of your poetic meeting with this giant dork so I can go to bed, I have graveyard shift tomorrow morning”) His face lit up, ugh, you’d think I’d hung the stars to light his cheeks, and he murmured, “ I happen to be a wonderful cook, thanks for asking. No symbiotic relationship necessary. Now, as lovely as this is, I’d really better skedaddle, I have dinner plans with an old college roommate… and tonight’s the new episode of Steven Universe and I will not have it spoiled for me by this little dickens,” he ruffled Dorian’s hair and pushed us out the doors. Outside, where I could feel just how warm and flustered I’d gotten, we waved the good doctor farewell and then Dorian turned to me and told me, “ You know how I’m supposed to be working on my honesty, and not being such a troublemaker? Well, I’m starting that tomorrow.”” He finished his story and sat, waiting in childish excitement for Virgil’s reaction to it all. He was shocked to hear him laughing, holding his head in his hands. He stood up, shoving Remy affectionately.

“You are such a sap. I say this with all the love and kindness of six years of friendship, but you are dense as a bag of bricks. You let a little kid manipulate you into driving all the way across town so he could set you up with his therapist! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m picking him up from every appointment until that man buys me dinner.”

*************************************************************************

The next morning Remy’s alarm woke him in the midst of the first pleasant dream he’d had in months. He had an early shift at the cafe and then a double shift at the bar that night to make it up to Joan for making them miss their anniversary dinner with their partner. He forced himself out of bed with a jolt, trudging to the bathroom adjoining his and Virgil’s rooms. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror, hair wild and hiding his sleepy eyes.  _ Time to face another day in the world, you disgusting monster. Make yourself human _ . Today he was especially conscious of his appearance, getting himself ready with precision and fervor that would have shocked his roommate if he were awake. Hair coiffed and dark floral shirt mostly buttoned, he made himself a travel mug of strong iced coffee and walked out the door, somewhat eager to face the day with the knowledge that the incredible man he’d met would be out and about facing it too.

He pulled into the lot behind his college friends' small cafe, Rise and Grind. He shook his hair loose and chained his helmet to his bag and ran across the alleyway to the front door, pausing to read the sandwich board outside of the small shop, where today, in loopy cursive, it read-  _ Sex Sells. Unfortunately, we still sell coffee. _ He laughed, unsure if his friend was aware of his error in letting his roommates write on the board while he got the first pastries and brews going. He opened the door with ease, still chuckling as he called back, “Hey Pat, you may want to rethink letting Val and Terrence write on the board. Something tells me we’re going to get some very  _ interesting _ customers this morning.” He was greeted with a smashing hug and a look of surprise and glee from his sweet, affectionate friend. He stood all of five feet and two inches, thick black frames shielding his warm, amber eyes from the flour in his hair. The grey beanie he wore seemed to only push his warm blonde fringe in his face. His light blue company logo shirt partially concealing his vine tattoos, which snaked down to blooming flowers in all shades of pastel paradise at his wrists. A little reminder, his friend called them, of the beauty that comes with years of hurt and trauma. His apron was covered in a dusting of flour, he’d been working overtime already and the shop hadn’t even opened for the morning yet! It made Remy grin, gently squeezing his friend before following him into the backroom, and listening to him chatter eagerly about his new ideas while Remy dropped his things and took long drags of his coffee, feeling more awake by the minute.

“Oh, it’s just so exciting, I still can’t believe this place is mine, Rem. There’s just something so personal about being someone’s first stop in the morning… wait a minute, what does the board say?” he asked, earning a chuckle from a well-intentioned Remy. That was Patton for you, the first to talk, the most easily excitable, but not the first to catch up. Remy shrugged him off, deciding instead to ask Patton about his night. He’d recently gotten back into the dating game, expressing his want for another person in his life, someone to cherish. It was difficult for him, but Remy had been the one to push him to get out there more.

“So, my night was, eventful. How was yours, any wild romances to report?”

“Hehe,  _ hardly _ . You know me, I’ve got a lot of love to give. Guess that makes me come off as pretty, intense for most people on the scene these days. Just another solo night of stargazing on the roof of my building, my date last night canceled on me. It was a pretty big let down to be honest… I’d made a whole picnic and we were gonna read books in the park. This one was the photographer too! Total bummer, but what can you do, I guess. Ugh, and he was  _ cute _ too… I think maybe I’ll get another tat at the end of the month. I was reading a book of mythology last week, after getting stood up at this cute little bookshop across town, and I just can’t shake the story of Artemis and Orion. She slew the one she loved so fiercely, and in her grief, she cast his body across the skyline so she could still see him every night. It’s so beautiful… and so tragic!” He sighed dreamily, one hand cupping his cheek, the other scrolling through his phone to find the image of the constellation. “Think I could convince Virge to get me in with one of his friends?” Patton was a dreamer, no wonder the stories in the stars made him feel less alone. Remy swore to himself then and there that he’d help him get the love story he deserved, no matter what.

“I’m sure he’d melt at the chance to help another lonely heart, especially since you’ve got a great story to go with it. Wanna keep me company at the bar tonight? I’m pulling a double, and I don’t want to be alone with all of the depressing, whiny bitches who come to a gay bar alone on a Thursday night.” He could sense his friends' discomfort at the idea- and his hurtful language- and got down on his knees in a comically dramatic fashion, clutching his own heart and begging with a desperate laugh, “Pleeeeeease! You’re one of my closest friends, I’d keep you company all night, and,” he added with a whine, “ Joan just texted me, tonight’s karaoke night. I need a duet partner… but in all seriousness, it would be nice to see you out and about for a while. Think about it, ‘kay, babes?”

“Well, I guess it could be fun. I’ll think it over and let you know, alright, kiddo?”

“ I would love nothing more. Check those muffins, king.”

“Eeek. No no no no no no, these can’t burn, they’re a test batch!”

And so the morning went on, testing, tasting, and regular customers flowing in and out the double doors. Regulars such as the drama troupe from the adjacent university, with each member heavily caffeinated for final dress rehearsal week for their long-anticipated annual productions of The Fall of the House of Usher and Murder on the Orient Express. Suddenly the nearly silent shop was humming to life with warmth and conversation. This was how Remy found his rhythm each morning, with high fives and low-brow jokes with those certain favorite customers. Laughing as his over-eager boss lit up off of feedback from his latest baked creations. Grinning as he mixed up a new, disgustingly odd drink for a teen who’d asked for a latte this morning, with “all of those weird, seasonal syrups mixed in”, including the pine flavored one. Wincing watching Joan pound back the most espresso-filled concoction he could come up with, muttering something about being up all night with Talyn crafting another script or short story after a long conversation about Remy’s absence last night. He shuddered and apologized before his friend laughed him off and left. Before he realized, the sun was up and it was nearly 10 AM. His early regulars long gone, he slowed himself for those who’d stop in intermittently. He was peacefully humming along to Pat’s ‘Lovers’ playlist. He played it in the mornings to raise his spirits after a rough night. The speakers filled the place with the poppy croonings of Fiction Factory’s ‘Feels Like Heaven’ when Remy twirled around to find a familiar face at the counter, the cordial, formal man he’d met last night. “Ah, hey there, Logan, right?” The studious face wasn’t paying him any mind though, instead transfixed on the soft man dancing behind the counter, singing while checking the ovens and swapping trays from the racks. Remy couldn’t help the devious smirk on his face as he watched the look on this stranger’s face shift as he gazed at Patton. After a long moment of blissful singing, a buzzer sounded and the cheerful man pulled warm muffins from the oven and turned to refill the waiting pastry case to find a matching pair of bespectacled eyes on him. The scene that followed was almost too precious to process, Remy remarked to himself. Both pairs of eyes widening, the nurse flushing beet red, the baker releasing a small squeak, pink dusting his cheeks as he set his sweets down, taking note of the situation. Shy, chaste glances and an awkward silence filled the near-empty shop. Remy felt a little bad for breaking their concentration when he cleared his throat, shifting the customer’s gaze from his boss to him, abruptly seizing his shoulders at the familiar face he was greeted with.

“I-it’s you, from last night, at the clinic.”

“Yup, hi,  _ Logan _ . Welcome to Rise and Grind, where the only thing stronger than our coffee is the chemistry in the air!” He chuckled at the blush dotting both men’s cheeks, before continuing, “ Is there anything I can get started for you… or the gorgeous Dr. Picani?” The man at the other side of the counter seemed to find his composure, though still stealing occasional glances at the now busy Patton. 

“Ah, yes. I was recommended this shop by a colleague and today’s been the first morning I’ve had the time… I’m picking up for myself and, coincidentally, Dr. Picani. A double cappuccino for myself, and a hot chocolate for the doctor. Oh, and one of those… scrumptious looking muffins.”

“Certainly, Scrubs. Give me just a few minutes and I’ll have that up for ya. And, kudos to you, those muffins are the newest addition to our menu, the brainchild of our genius baker, Patton over there.”

A few opportune moments ticked by before he passed off the order to the studious man in front of him with a knowing grin, praying he wouldn’t comment about the fact that his phone number was on the cup of hot chocolate. He smiled, full of chaotic energy when the slender man left, calling after him, “ Byeee~!”

Patton had pulled him into the back room before the door had shut fully, facing him with an incredulous look. He was pink from his cheeks to his ears, a goofy grin softening the serious look in his eyes. 

“How do you know that beautiful fella?! Because he was looking at me, and I c-could feel little butterflies in my chest. He  _ was  _ looking at me, right? How long was he there, did he hear me singing, I kinda hope he did, could I plan a cuter way to meet someone!!! I mean, golly he was a sight for my sad eyes- I mean, sore eyes. And he-he said something so nice about my food, and I swear if I hadn’t stopped looking at him when I did I was, I was gonna melt into the floor~... but don't worry Rem, if he’s an ex or one of your hookups or something like that, then I’ll leave him alone when I see him again. Not that I’ll see him again. Oh, my steel gazed nymph, if only. He’s not going to want a bruised apple like me.” Remy could hear the similarities between himself and his exuberant comrade, and he gripped his friend’s shoulders squarely. 

“Pat, relax. I just met him last night while I was picking up my cousin from a therapy appointment with that guy's boss. And trust me, gurl, he is not my type. But, you seem to be his type. He was looking at you the entire time I was taking his order! His boss is the guy I texted you about last night. His name is Logan, and I bet you’ll be seeing him here more often,” he teased. His friend sighed dreamily, letting go of Remy’s shirt and spinning around the backroom, chirping like a lovesick squirrel. It warmed the sardonic flirt to see his friend so dumbfounded by another person. Patton had been through the wringer over their many years of friendship, with shitty boyfriends, awful first dates, and meet-cutes that never went past the awkward flirting stage. That would be a lot for even him, but Patton was a sensitive soul, and every failed romance wounded his precious heart. He would indulge himself in romantic fantasies, but never get his hopes up for more. But this was different from what Remy had seen of his friend in years, he was acting so giddy. He was thrilled for him, and he’d do whatever he could with his wonderful, chaos god level of bullshit luck and pure meddling to get them together. And if not, Patton wouldn’t get his heart broken. Virgil had theories that Patton wouldn’t have gotten tattoos if he hadn’t realized that he’d already felt worse pain than any machine could give him, but Remy only saw how much that made sense when he had seen him look so dejected after such a Rom-Com experience. He saw his friend before him, squirming with excitement and trying to hide how disappointed he’d been only moments ago. “Pat, you good, hun? I know he’s cute, but you’re kind of throwing me for a loop here…”

“Can we talk tonight? At your work thing?” His grin shining, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Remy was not used to this kind of intense gaze from his friend. He smirked to himself, throwing his jacket on and reaffixing his sunglasses to his eyes.  _ So I am rubbing off on him _ . He left, checking out and giving his friend an eager nod. There was work to be done elsewhere, and his other shift manager was not as nice as Joan. In fact, this one was kind of an asshole. Not that Joan couldn’t be an asshole, they were just an asshole in a fun way that gave Remy energy. This guy was more the type where a physical smile was a luxury, and he wasn't a patient manager. Remy spent another ten minutes checking out and confirming with a blushing Patton that he'd tell him more about the nerdy dreamboat later at the bar. He called Virgil as soon as he was out of earshot of Patton and his replacement Sloane. He scoffed lightly as he got the voicemail of his emo counterpart. 

“Virge, sweetie, honey, baby, pussycat! It’s the Remster. Meet Pat and I at Leaning Shot tonight. I have a plan for our sweet, pining patisserie and I’ll need your help. M’kay babes’ love ya see you there at seven! Bye.”

He arrived at the hole-in-the-wall that was his second place of employment with seconds to spare before Nate could mark him late. He parked his bike and gave a holler through the door, “Yo, Nate, guess who made it in on time? Me, that’s who. Back away from your clipboard, disaster gay!”

“Funny, coming from the  _ most popular _ bartender. Don’t make a habit of cutting this close, or I’m telling the owner.”

“Ugh, and who would notice my absence? The three customers who come in on their lunch breaks right now? No offense, darling, but I don’t think that Sarah would mind me being two minutes late.”

“Whatever, just get your ass back here and get changed for your shifts. And don’t take all night, I’d like to get home before the sun sets. Felix and I have reservations.”

Remy rolled his eyes. All around him people were falling in love and rubbing it in his face, even this intolerable twink he had to answer to instead of his friend Joan.He would relish in taking his sweet time changing into his uniform, just knowing he gave Nate a mild rise in blood pressure. He busied himself quickly after he was freed from his guy’s judgemental sneer. Filling orders and setting up the machines for tonights’ event, he couldn’t help but wonder what his nephew’s therapist would be doing. Busy reading books or watching another cartoon. Those wavy locks of cotton-candy hair partially covering his sweet, warm eyes. He caught himself sighing, he was not one to engage in fantasies often, but if he was going to be so keen to set up Patton with this man’s secretary, he couldn’t help feeling like he’d have to get to know this quirky fellow better. Y’know, for the plan to work. He kept himself busy, setting up the tables and greeting small parties of people who came in, grinning every time he saw a face he didn’t recognize. This place was only now becoming a social hub for the local queer community, and Remy felt proud of that fact, no matter the stupid name or annoying coworkers or crazy hours. He had just finished setting up and turned his back to the counter to check his messages.  _ Huh, two texts from Virgil. ‘Never call me pussycat again, and don’t ask me why.’ ‘Also, I’ll be there, but I want you to know, that if or when your _ _ plan fails, I will kick your ass for hurting Patton’ _ . He shot back a quick reply, and while the details aren’t important, there were some lewd allusions about catlike action and genitalia were involved in a scathing response to Virge’s lack of faith in him. There was still a smirk present on his face when someone called out to him.

“Excuse me!” Came a deep, bell-toned voice behind him. Remy put on his best ‘customer service face’ and turned to greet this person when a shock of recognition ran through him at the sight of the tanned face staring back at him.

“Roman! You’re back! You’re here… you’re gay?”

“Well, I should hope so, or else I have some concerning phone calls to make to some guys from college. Nice to see you too, Remington…”

“Blegh,  _ never  _ call me that. Remy to you, and the rest of the waking world, big shot. What brings the prodigal son home?”

“Well, my muse has been calling to me, and it kept saying there was something wonderful I could create here. A story to be told. And so, I took up work as a director for an acting troupe when the position opened up. And when there’s time, I’m out at the Starbucks, people-watching to get inspiration for my new script. And why are you here, bartending? I thought you were going to grab some hot guy and ride off into the night sky!”

“Yeah, few complications with that plan, my bitch. I have no hot guy, and the sunset keeps getting further away... Besides, Dorian’s a teenager now, and he’s kinda come to depend on me, ya know? I love the little bastard, and he needs a good bi-con to look up to. You haven’t changed a bit, I see. How're things with your family?”

“One word- woof. Two words- Remus. Puberty.”

“Yikes, really thought that kid would level out sometime. Not the case, huh?”

“Yeah seeing as he set three of my jackets on fire the other night because he ‘didn’t like the way the buttons shone in the light’, I’d say no… and speaking of Dorian, guess who’s my brother’s new conjoined twin?”

“... So  _ that’s  _ who he’s always texting. Sorry, dude.”

“Don’t apologize, just don’t be too good a bi-con. Or else we’ll have a real problem on our hands. So, handsome, you’ve been giving me a lot of talk… Wanna buy me a drink?”

“HA! Fat chance of that, you ditched me after I asked you to Prom! What’ll it be, Fellows?”

“Vodka tonic, and a promise we’ll talk again before tonight’s over!”

“Hey, tonight’s karaoke, do you think I’m gonna pass up the chance to show off my most talented friend. Pat will be thrilled to see you again. Don’t worry, he’s over that crush on you from Sophomore year. You can help me set him up with a coworker of the guy Dorian is setting me up with!”

“That sounds like an incredibly hairbrained scheme- I’m so in! Okay, I’ll let you get some work done, I wanna surprise Patton! Is he-”

“-still adorable? Yup. He’s got ink and piercings now. You’ll love it.”

Remy snickered at his over-dramatic friend slinking back to a table near the back of the bar, no doubt planning his next moves in hope of surprising his best friend.  _ Roman _ , he thought, _ the one who made it out. You weren’t supposed to come back to us. WE were supposed to find our way to you, man _ . There were so many plans they’d made together. All of them abandoned. They’d dreamed up all three of their successful lives off in the world together, like one of those sitcoms where the money is no object to the main characters. But this was the real world, and money was a real dividing force between the three friends. Remy had debts to pay off, student loans, and insurance payments to make. He struggled to make ends meet, even while splitting rent and utilities with Virgil. Patton was pretty well off financially, well enough to get a new tattoo whenever his heart broke, well enough to follow his dream in their hometown, where the fear of change wouldn’t choke him. Roman was better off, his talents had been recognized since they were children, he got scholarships and the best education money could buy. His family leased him an apartment in California as a Graduation present. And from that last summer on, their lives were winding down different paths. One stagnant and pissed, one spiraling into himself and trapping himself in the catacomb he’d built around his heart, one free to his whims and fancies. It made the bitter taste in Remy’s mouth resurface, but he’d never admit to that in front of his treasured friends. There was still an hour to kill until Pat and Virge were supposed to show, and he’d fill it distracting himself; listening to Thursday drunks singing off-key and smirking as Roman waited excitedly, scribbling in a leather-bound notebook every so often. Things were relatively busy by the time he got an ‘outside’ text from Patton. He gave a whistle to Corbin, the other bartender on staff, and went to grab his perky pal. He strolled around the corner, waving as Patton and Virgil hopped out of Patton’s baby blue pickup truck. They strolled up to him, Patton pouncing him into a back-cracking hug, Virgil punching him affectionately on the shoulder. Patton had changed from his (probably flour-coated) work clothes, and was donning a bright blue cropped collared shirt with a pastel rainbow patch across the back, and a white pleated skirt. Virge had changed his shirt, at which Remy balked.

“Bitch?! Sassing me over text and now stealing my clothes? I don’t know who you are anymore, Virgil… it does look better on you than it did on me. Fine, I choose to sacrifice this killer shirt for our friendship!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, I like the skulls… and thanks for coming to get us, but aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Shit, right. I work here- I don’t just wear this T-shirt with a cartoon shot glass on it for fun.”

They headed inside, Remy hopped back behind the counter and poached Corbin off of Virgil. “Okay, sweets, if we’re gonna get talking boys and scheming, I’m gonna need,” he started, pointing first to Virgil and then to a blushing Patton, “ you to loosen up, and you to shed some of that icky fear. What can I get you two dolls?” Patton squeaked out a protest before Remy put up a hand to silence him. “Don’t you worry, babes. I’ll drive you sweethearts home. You both deserve a break, and you can consider this my treat for you two coming to join me in my misery tonight.” Virgil sniggered and ordered a whiskey sour to appease him, but Patton sat there, flashing him ‘help me’ eyes. Remy pulled Patton by the arm, dragging Corbin towards his shaking companion. “ Pat, it’s okay to be nervous, or even worried. But it’s not okay to hold it all in. I was giving Corbin here the same speech about two months ago, and he’s been flourishing. He’s got a cute boyfriend, and he loves those myths. Corbs, my pint-sized drink of water, how’s about a daiquiri for my friend and you tell him all about the sweet guy on your arm lately?” Remy grinned as Patton buzzed excitedly, listening eagerly to the more toned-down man speak kindly about his beau. Virgil shot Remy a look, to which he replied, “What? Can’t let him get too involved in his own matchmaking. Let me tell you about Logan, but more specifically about Patton’s reaction to Logan…” 


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mischief? During Remy's shift? Never...

About 20 minutes passed like that before Patton was passed off to them by a shy, grin-bearing Corbin. The two who’d been scheming looked up to find their good friend beaming at them, a drink in one hand and a karaoke sheet in the other.

“No. Patton, I love you, really I do, but this is not happening.”

“Awwww, please Virge, one song? For me?”

“Fine, but later. And only ‘cuz you asked nicely. So, Logan sounds nice. I didn’t know smart was your type,” Virgil teased, waggling his eyebrows at the blushing baker. Patton threw himself in a seat next to the darkly dressed man and went into an impassioned run of the events of the morning, all painted pink with feeling and imagery only Patton could conjure up. He was halfway through a soulful description of Logan’s eyes and freckled cheeks in the ambient lighting of his little shop when a shadow fell over their table. Virgil tensed, focusing more intently on Patton and his flowery talk, but mentally preparing to fight or flee if this figure didn’t get the message in his unfriendly body language. This went on through the entire description of how quickly Patton’s heart was racing as he took in his new crush’s attractive frame, Virgil’s hands curled tightly into fists at his sides,  _ so he’s not picking up on subtlety _ . Patton caught himself, noticing the nerves Virgil was expressing. He was about to say something, turn and face whoever was frightening his friend when the man they had been trying to ignore spoke.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was looking for a duet partner and most of the guys here are just not that into Disney if you can believe that?! And, I know how difficult it can be trying to sing ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’ as a solo, right Specs?” He grinned down at Patton with a flash of that million-dollar smile he was known for. Patton glanced up with a tinge of hostility in his eyes, ready to defend himself and his anxious friend. He took one look at the warm green eyes staring back at him and all of the visions of bravery and fight melted away with joy in its place. He jumped up from his seat, embracing the tall, muscled man in front of him.

“ROMAN!” He squealed, tightening his grip on his old friend as though he’d disappear if he let go. “Oh my gosh, is it really you, are you really back? Ah, it’s been such a long time!”

“It’s good to see you too, Pat. Yes, the rumours are true- I’m home,” Roman chuckled heartily at the squeezing embrace around his waist, moving a hand to ruffle his assailant’s hair. He could hardly believe just how excited he’d been to see his old best friend’s face. He pushed him off gently and took in the sight. It was just as Remy had said- the years hadn’t changed the softness he treasured in Patton, and he had made himself the canvas for telling pieces of art, intricate tattoos covering his arms and neck, and a small broken heart above his hip. He himself was decked in florals and form-fitted clothes, yet he saw Patton and knew immediately that his style was more honest to the man he remembered as shy and affectionate. He was freer than ever before, and Roman still hadn’t found that for himself. Patton was still looking at him, beaming, and then he ran across the bar to find Remy, tugging his sleeves while he helped a small group of people settle their check. Remy gave them a smile as they left, and turned to Patton, who was giggling and smiling intensely. Before he could mutter a protest, Patton was pulling him back to their table, where a grinning Roman was trying his best to hold back a chuckle at the sight of Patton dragging the man who had at least a foot and a half and twenty pounds on him. Remy’s eyes shifted for a second to his roommate, who’s eyes were stuck to the table, closing himself off from the private, intimate moment in front of him. This concerned was swallowed when Patton had the two of them in a hug all together.

“Oh, my goodness, we’re all back together again! This is like something out of a dream,” he stated, warmly looking up at the smiling faces of his childhood friends, “All of us together, I met a cute guy, made a new friend AND karaoke! Oh, and Virge!” Virgil’s head snapped up at the mention of his name, and a look of contempt quickly overcame his gaze as he took note of  _ just who _ Patton was holding onto.  _ Oh GOD, NO-- _

“Princey?!” Virgil grimaced.

“StormCloud?!” Roman exclaimed, face burning red.

“AHHH, you two know each other?” Patton squeaked, pulling away and bringing his hands to cup his cheeks.

“ Unfortunately, we do. Remy, this is the thorn in my side, from work,” Virgil sneered, flashing a dangerous look at Roman. Roman paled, swallowing hard, tensing- no- shivering.

Patton was apparently oblivious to the hostility in Virgil’s tone, as he pulled Roman down into a chair at the table, eagerly discussing music choices and filling the awkward silence with years worth of questions. Meanwhile, Remy tried his best to get away from the scene, feeling Virgil’s irritated gaze baring into his soul. He would have to fix the sour face another drink and hope not to be hearing a rant about his best friend from his other best friend later on in the night. This revelation sparked a new slew of theories and schemes in the back of Remy’s mind. He knew one thing for certain now- Virgil definitely had a thing for his childhood friend, and now that he knew they all had this connection, Roman wasn’t going to ease up. He was holding back laughter as he returned to his place behind the bar, to a thoroughly confused Corbin, who’d gotten a text from his boyfriend; who Remy was proud to have set him up with. Sloane was cute and sweet, with a temperament not unlike Pat’s, which made sense, since they worked together. Remy was in the midst of giving himself a pat on the back for being an absolutely perfect matchmaker when he felt a sharp tap on the side of his arm. He refocused back, eyes training on an irritated-looking Corbin. 

“ Sorry Corbs, planning double dates for you and Sloane, like a bitchin’ Cupid! You all good, darlin’?”

“Funny you should mention Sloane. My “cute boyfriend” just texted me, letting me know that he made me dinner for when I get off my shift-”

“- Sorry, I’m not seeing why that warrants hitting your proxy-”

“-And that he’s set the two of us an appointment for couple’s therapy!” He graveled with a weighty sigh.

Remy flashed him a confused glance, face scrunched in a mixture of shock and questioning.

“Are you two having trouble? I just ran into Sloane this morning, he seemed chipper as ever,” Remy remarked with a start, working on a round of shots for a college GSA table. Corbin responded with an exasperated sigh, as though Remy had misinterpreted his inclusion in the situation entirely.

“No, we’re not. We’re happy as can be. Which is why this kind of thing frustrates me. Sloane and I don’t have the money for this kind of thing, which you know”, Corbin started, albeit a little huffy and defensive, “ we’re both working late most nights, but it seems like whenever he’s left to his own, Sloane makes all of these impulsive decisions that I have consequences or effects on me. I know he’s only doing it because he cares, but I’d rather he just talk to me instead of making choices for the both of us. And I can’t help but remember that you were beaming about how well your little cousin was doing with this new therapist in town. Which means you’re responsible for planting this seed in his head, Rem.”

“Whoa, no need to get so defensive. I’m not attacking your relationship, and believe me I never intended for Sloane to run with the idea and drag you into it with him. But hey, you could think of it this way; that sweetheart is so invested in y’all’s relationship that he’s setting aside time to talk to you about this whole thing. It’s kinda a cute gesture if you think about it.  _ Enjoy, my dear queers… and guests of the straight persuasion _ . Relax a little, Corbs, just talk to him about it tonight or tomorrow. Remember, you  ** _like_ ** Sloane. Aand, you don’t hate me, m’kay I’m gonna go serve my roommate a stiff drink so he doesn’t kill me for pulling the man of his dreams into his life!” And with that, he disappeared from Corbin’s sight as soon as he possibly could, retreating back to Virgil’s curled-lipped scowl, Patton’s giggling and Roman’s hearty voice. “Hey, you three, no getting into trouble without me! Virge, your usual, noticed you looking a bit, thirsty,” he slid the glass to his brooding blood brother with a waggle of an eyebrow, which was met with a dagger-eyed glare.

“So, Ro. What’s this new story about? You always tell the best adventures, or ooh maybe a historical fiction? C’mon you can trust us, right fellas?” Patton pleaded.

The other two didn’t dare disagree with that declaration after taking one look at the eager, innocent, expectant look on their compatriot’s face. Roman, for the first time Remy could recall, looked sheepish and winced, as though silencing a monster before turning his attention to all three of them.

“Well, I usually don’t share an outline until it’s finished… But, for my favorite person on the planet, what else can I do except acquiesce. So, it’s a new genre for me, but it’s a murder noir. A small city is rattled when a body is discovered in the pool of the local college, strangled and beaten. What’s even more troubling- no one in the town had seemingly ever seen this man before. A disgraced former intelligence officer takes an interest in the case, and as he gets deeper into the man’s background, he keeps finding connections to himself and the dead man he’s trying to avenge. Finally, he comes to the conclusion that a disgruntled ex-lover of his- a well-known diplomat from Turkey- has been baiting him with this case to distract him from a threat to his life!” Roman was buzzing, almost shaking as he finished the tale, eyes flicking back and forth between the members of his ‘audience’, from the shock and bewilderment in Patton’s eyes to the smirk gracing Remy’s lips and, a little more hopeful than he’d be comfortable admitting, his eyes scanned the amused raise of Dark and Stormy, er, Virgil’s eyebrows. “Well, what do you think? Am I too far out of my depth? Does it make sense or am I just making things too hairbrained? I understand if you guys think it’s a reach, my publisher sure does…”

“It’s certainly not what I pictured someone like you penning,” Virgil murmured with a slight drag, “ but that’s actually a cool concept. But please tell me there’s no over-sexual Russian spy woman sent to seduce him!”

“Woof, no way. Actually, I took that trope and swapped the femme fatale for this brooding, hard-to-get musician guy. The temptress sent by the ex’s cronies takes note that the detective is gay almost immediately, and then after a great deal of convincing, decides to help him solve the case!”

“Wow, nice. Gay protag, not often seen in the crime novel. Better write it right. Let me guess, this place is the basis for your fictional Smallville?”

“ I-I mean, that’s not the only real-life comparison, every scene is coated in the protagonists yearning for the good old days, before he lost his longtime partner, and well,  _ partner _ . He develops this habit of shutting everyone out of his life, and he has a few friends who practically have to kidnap him to get him to talk to them… sorry Pat, Rem, it seems you can’t escape my muse either! Oooh, and there’s bomb seller who’s co-conspirators with the diplomat, but he’s the comic relief. Selling bombs and the like is what he does to put his daughter through ballet training. And, a scientist who’s been faking evidence!”

Patton had pulled Remy away from the two who were deep into discussing the macabre details of corpse preservation and swapping blood samples. There was a lightness to Virgil while he was enraptured in countering Roman’s wit that neither man had ever seen from him, it cheered them to watch. But Remy had a sneaking suspicion that Patton had pulled him away to talk about more than just that. It was late, and more and more people were leaving, so Remy decided he could afford to slack just a little more than he already had. He’d been working since early evening and Corbin knew he was flighty on a normal basis, and flashed him a sympathetic and curt smile.  _ Well, all my tips go to him tonight _ , Remy thought. 

“Hey there, Pattoncake, what’s up? Get a load of the lovebirds, am I right?” Remy elbowed his friend and gestured to the two at the dimly lit table, who were now quipping back and forth about the double entendre of a gun. Patton let loose a pretty peal of laughter, before turning back to Remy with achingly serious eyes.

“Rems, did you ever think we’d see Virge like that?”

“No, I guess not. Never really took my bitch of a roommate as much of the type for sweet, mushy feelings. It’s kind of cute to see him soften, in his own, creepy way.”

“Hey, I think they’re adorable! So, all this time, Roman’s been back and we haven’t seen him before tonight. Do you think- I mean, is he doing okay?”

“To be honest, honey, I have no idea. I saw him for the first time earlier tonight. But he’s here, and we all know it now. All we can do is try to be there for him, and maybe, just maybe he’ll tell us if there’s something going on.”

“Wow, pretty deep for Mr. Tough Guy. You know, we’re all in a bit of a mess, but I'm glad we’re helping each other. But hey, sadness is too typical for us. Tell me about this guy you wanna play doctor with.”

“Okay, Pats, never say that again, that kind of joke is just so wrong coming from your lips, you little cherub. His name is Emile, he has pink hair and wire-rimmed glasses, he’s a therapist. He’s Dorian’s therapist, actually. Logan, your darling ‘steel-gazed nymph’ is his nurse, or secretary or something. I really gotta learn that guy’s position. Anyway, he’s energetic and funny and charismatic. He’s great with Dorian, and he’s got a childlike sense of wonder. Like no one ever told him that he needed to grow us as he grew old. He speaks in cartoon references and song lyrics and he has this charming midwestern accent, he looks… warm. He’s an absolutely gorgeous shorty with cozy sweaters and colorful ties and  _ stuffed animals in his office, for chrissake _ . Like, he’s everything I never got to be, Pat he’s just-”

“- all light?” Patton asked, pushing up his glasses to his forehead to wipe away a tear from his eye. Remy nodded softly let himself let out a full, contented sigh. He felt Emile- well, as much as he could, like he could sense the warmth and sweetness and charm and  _ light _ he felt when he heard his voice, and lilt of his words and his affectionate nature and how  _ proud  _ he’d looked as Dorian chuckled at him. He was comfortable and quirky and kind, all things Remy thought he’d never see, much less be so overwhelmingly transfixed by. Patton chuckled at the trance-like stance Remy had been coming in and out of, cooing, “ someone has a cruuuush.”

“Hey gurl, don’t act like you’re perfect, you were drooling over Logan the second he was out the door!” He playfully punched his pal’s arm. “ Besides, you need me. I’m your proxy, your Friar Lawrence, your Yente, your Aphrodite. I am the singular link between you and your gentleman caller. You may want to be sweet to me, Sunshine, I can just as easily tell him you’re straight…”

“YOu wouldn’t DARE!” Patton cried in mock-offense.

“You’re right, besides, he’d never believe me. You two have such great chemistry. Oof, the two of you nerds heated up the whole shop.”

“Aww, quit teasing. So, anything I should know about him. I mean, just in case good old Dorian ever wants a ride home from Uncle Pat?”

“Pat, the only way that’s happening is if I get a sidecar. I have a reputation to uphold, and I do not need my Duchess thinking I have a Duchess when I don’t, cuz I’m Thomas O’Malley when really I have a Toulouse. God, I’m even talking like him! But, the only thing you need to know is that Logan is like one of those robots in Star Wars. Just be kind, and honest and try not to go totally mythological hero on him.”

“Oh, matter-of-fact. Knowledge-based stuff. That sounds like him… not like I’d know, but I just feel like I do. Say, you don’t think he’d be into hearing me blab about legends, myths, or…,” he added with a gasp, “Astronomy?”

He was off in fantasyland again, no doubt dreaming up all of the best stories to tell Logan. Remy had to ground him if they were going to get to the meat of this conversation. The bar was near empty, Corbin clearing tables and smirking at the predicament his colleague had gotten himself into- a tipsy day-dreamer staring into space, and two at a table who were riding the line many bar and nightclub workers called the ‘fight or fuck’ divide. Roman and Virgil were nearly at each other's throats, Virgil’s anger-bordered sneer present on his face, and Roman wasn’t backing down. Remy had no clue what got them to this volatile state, but there was only a finite amount of time he had left to finish his talk with Patton before those two caused some property damage.

“Hey Pat, we gotta get you two formally introduced first, sweets. You gotta walk the walk before, y’ know, talking the eternal talk. How’s about I spend a few days texting the good doctor, try to get you a foot in the door with the sexy secretary, and try to score me some good guy points with my cousin the shipper along the way. I told Dor’s folks that the kid has been asking me for some, heh, private, advice. So I’m picking him up from all of his sessions, getting me access to talking to Emile  and Logan. And if your darling comes into the shop again, as I suspect he might, talk to him. Sound good?”

Patton gave him a fierce nod, turning pink at the prospect of romance. He embraced Remy once again, thanking him in a truly Patton way for all of the advice and the offers of help. Remy shooed him, reassuring him that he’d do anything for him, that’s what friends were for.

Now there was the matter of making sure Roman and Virgil didn’t kill each other before he closed up.

“Hey, assholes! If you’re going to bloody each other, please do it somewhere where I’m not liable for any injury and/or damage you may cause! And if you’re gonna fuck, same rules apply, but I want details!” That broke their trance, Virgil sending expletives flying and shoving off of the grip Roman had had of his shoulders, practically throwing himself back in his seat with a low groan. Roman, on the other hand, reacted in a way he hardly expected; letting his whole body relax, laughing heartily and clutching his sides. And, he didn’t stop laughing until there were tears pricking his eyes and Virgil was gripping the table with white knuckles, holding himself back from punching him out. Remy, perplexed, turned to a shocked and quiet Patton, whispering in his ear, “ Go keep them distracted, tell Roman about buying the bakery, and talk to Virgil about the new tattoo idea. Wave me over if you need help. I gotta help Corbin with those, uhhh, rowdy college kids. Whatever you do, do not let Roman do that touchy-feely thing he does when he thinks someone likes him, Virge  _ will  _ kick his ass into the back of the booth and I don’t want to have to explain sudden property damage to Joan, I’m already on their shit list.” 

With things taken care of for the moment, Remy ran back to his station. He pulled Corbin next to him, “I will pay you one hundred dollars to take my place- I go home to your warm house and your hot boyfriend, and you stay here and deal with the carnage my hot mess friends will inevitably cause.”

“Ha. No way. And get your own boyfriend.”

“Two hundred dollars to kill me…”

“Again, negative. I’m done cleaning up from everyone out here, I’m going home. Don’t let your friends destroy the place. I like Pat, thanks for the introduction, make sure he doesn’t read the Greek’s Orpheus and Eurydice until his head’s in a better place. Your writer friend’s a great singer, don’t forget to lock up. Good luck, Remy,” Corbin called, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and walking out the door.  _ Fuck… this is a disaster _ . Then he heard a warm, low voice over a microphone, and dissonant bass thumpings with eerie strings, hanging in the air.  _ Or, not. Virgil, you sly dog _ .

* _ There are few who'd deny, at what I do I am the best _

_ For my talents are renowned far and wide _

_ When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night _

_ I excel without ever even trying _

_ With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms _

_ I have seen grown men give out a shriek* _

The rest of the evening went, people gathering to hear three almost dueling voices, then leaving with a laugh, nodding at the bartender who knew their names, but called them ‘babe’, ‘sweetheart’, and ‘honey’ anyway. Patton and Virgil were crooning “Out There” when Remy had finished changing. Patton’s innocence playing off of Virgil’s manipulative jeering made it almost seem real. That wasn’t nearly as disarming as how transfixed Roman was by the rich, dark sound of Virgil’s Claude Frollo, staring in a daze at the intense glare Virgil’s deep brown eyes. Remy jabbed his friend in the side, earning him a chuckle and a stern look Remy knew meant “we’re talking about this later”. Patton belting the final note as though he’d been waiting forever to get a chance to say his piece about hiding from the rest of the world. He was out of character as quickly as he’d gotten into, running to Virgil and spinning him around in a hug that would’ve embarrassed him if he had been with anyone else. But this was his closest friend in the world, so he just laughed and congratulated him on a brilliant idea, and told him he’d tell him all about his close friend Jay who could make a ‘bitchin’ piece of art’ from the Orion constellation. Remy watched them with a lightness he had been carrying. He could get used to the levity, to feeling as they’d always be there. But it was too late, and they all had jobs to get to in the morning, so he had to bring it all back to reality.

“Hey, Menken, Elfman. We gotta go, I’m driving,” he hollered. His friends gazed at him, fire in their eyes. This was a good night.

Remy loaded Patton into the backseat of his truck, let him lay down and catch his rest. He chained and locked his bike to the back door of the bar, along with a text to Joan that he was doing so. By the time everything inside was taken care of and shut down for the night, he returned to find Virgil and Roman shoulder to shoulder, leaning back against the wall talking. He passed by them, careful not to disturb them… Until he got in the truck and fired it up, blinding the pair with the lights. Then he cheekily leaned out the window, calling, “Virgil Aristotle Danaos, get your scary, gay ass in the car. Tell your lover ‘parting is such sweet sorrow’ or whatever and let’s get going, Pat’s asleep back here.” Virgil gave him a middle finger salute, then with a few words to the Drama King he hopped into the passenger seat, slamming it with a thud, and they peeled off into the night, halfway to their apartment when Remy spoke again.

“So… you and Roman, what was going on there?”

“Not sure yet, what do you wanna know?”

“When the wedding is, what to wear, and whose best man I am?”

“... I’ll sleep on the couch, put Pat in my room.”

“Boo, you know my games are no fun when you don’t play along!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this, and for all the support thusfar! Don't worry, Emile and others will be back in the active story soon!  
Also, for those who may not know, Virgil sings "Jack's Lament" from The Nightmare Before Christmas! Enjoy


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy and Patton head off for work the next morning, eager to talk about the new developments. Another interesting day at the cafe. And Remy has to pick up Dorian from group???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****** Dum da da dum dum dum dum~~~ Here we are with another chapter, after an eternity. This one is chock full of tropes and fluff. Enjoy and let me know what you'd like to see from this story!

Remy awoke with a grin on his face the next morning, knowing he had a reason to look forward to today- Dorian had group today and requested that his ‘cool cousin’ pick him up after work, which he would gladly do since it gave him an excuse to play Cupid. There was excitement in the air, he would have good news for his snoring friend asleep in the adjoining room. He knew Virgil would be long gone, off to work early to dodge any inquiries from his cheery cohort about their conversations at the bar. There was no way the subject of Roman Fellows wouldn’t be brought up again, Remy was too mischievous for the teasing to stop there. This was a golden opportunity to see Virgil soft and Roman acting melodramatic like Patton. This situation would send Patton into full-on daydream mode; his high-school crush and his best friend from college locked in a flirty-rivalry- he would never let either of them live it down. And Remy would relish in every moment where Patton cooed over them. But that was, of course, all to come. First, Patton would need to wake up and the two left in the dark apartment would need to leave for the cafe to lightning skies. He grimaced as he prepared himself for a barrage of questions from his curious boss, slamming down a mug of coffee and grabbing tea from the cabinet to pacify Patton long enough for Remy to get dressed for the day without an interview about the particularly peculiar psychiatrist he was seeing, and how they were going to fall in love at the meddling hands of a trickster child, which was just a global, mythical, unbelievable cliche. There was no way he’d be able to play it off smoothly as he would want to in order to maintain his reputation as a hip and cool to the marrow, devil-may-care guy. Or at least, not be a swooning mess before he’d even seen Emile more than once! He tapped at Virgil’s door until the door creaked open. Remy slowly entered, taking in the nearly empty room, excepting Virgil’s small set of drawers and suitcase. Against the wall was the bed, where a small Patton was sprawled out and tangled in the bedsheets, snoring peacefully. Remy knew that the next few seconds would be crucial, if he could wake him up and promptly give him the tea, he’d be fine and chipper. If he woke up and didn’t take the warm liquid, there’d be no avoiding his grumpy state of mind. Patton was a lover, an empath, a feeler of feelings and an encouraging friend, but he was also the world’s angriest waker. He hated waking up just as much as he hated going to sleep each night because it meant no more quests and adventures and other marvelous times for him to recall fondly. Plus it interrupted his dreams, of which he was famous for; having epic journeys and extensive worlds to explore every night made him feel happier staying put in the waking world. The peaceful pâtissier stirred as his callous counterpart kicked the bed frame, mumbling something about it being obscenely early. Remy felt bad, but the shop wasn’t going to open itself and they were only going to regret it if they were late. He nudged him softly, garnering groans and the occasional vulgar word. The third jostle was hard, forceful, and enough to get Patton upright and glaring at him with an intense stare that would have been comical at any other time. He swallowed his worry and passed him the mug that read ‘DON’T Spill the Tea’ with a bunch of cartoon hearts. It was an old Christmas gift from Virgil from their first year living together, but Patton had come to love it so much that it was  _ his _ designated mug at their home. The cranky face softened at the warm feeling of the mug in his hand, and Remy hoped that would be enough to quell his rage.

“‘Morning, Pat. Sorry to wake ya, sweetness, but my boss will kill me if I’m late this morning.”

“... Good morning, I guess,” he whined, stretching out his shoulders, “ did Virge leave already, I was hoping we could talk more. I feel a little bad, y’ know, I got so wrapped up in Roman being there that I wasn’t really paying him any attention.” Patton’s gentle facial expression shifted downward, eyebrows furrowing, mouth drooping slightly. He felt way too guilty over Virge being forced to spend time with a guy he’s been talking non-stop about for months, Remy couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“Trust me, Virgil was way more interested in being wrapped up in Roman, too,” he chided, walking out the door and into his room to get ready.

“You think? They seemed pretty annoyed with each other, I don’t see how that means Virge likes him,” Patton pondered, snatching a stack of clothing labeled ‘Pat’s Spares’.

“Honey, do you remember how long it took Virge to ‘warm-up’ to me, even after years of you bragging about my humor and good looks? And try to remember, Virgil’s not as soft as you or I, and he’s not quick to show affection. If we really want to know how Virge feels, we gotta be looking for subtlety, subtext, and sarcasm. And we already know how Roman feels, he’s just way too proud to say it first. Those two are going to drive us all nuts with their flirting…”

“That was flirting?! I thought I was going to have to stop them from killing each other last night before Virgil shut off and started singing.”

“Yeah, what happened there? I tried talking to Virgil about it on the way home last night, but he was too busy sulking and staring out the window to deign to answer me.”

“Oh, well. I went over there and started getting them both off-topic as you suggested, but everything just kept circling back to the two of them arguing- about mythology as a lesson or as a means for conditioning society to act a certain way out of fear of divine punishment. Then, we tried talking about the shop and business and all Virgil did was discount Roman whenever he said something. Then, nasty words between the two of them, I didn’t really know what to do anymore. But then, I saw Roman’s key-ring and blurted “Disney!”, so then we got on the topic of our favorite Disney movies. Roman got so excited to start talking about Disney musicals and the beauty of song in storytelling, his words, not mine. Then, the next thing you know, Roman is ranting and raving and I’m just trying to keep up, and Virge was sunk so far back in the chair that I couldn’t see his face anymore. But, I figured, they weren’t fighting anymore, so we were fine…”

“... and that’s when Virgil decided to be a little drama king and serenade you guys to get a word in?”

“Not exactly.”

“What’d King of Everything’s About Me do this time?”

“He said stop motion was a dead art form, and that no one in the past decade had made something beautiful with it that hadn’t felt half-baked. Then Virgil shot up.”

“Well, Prince Charming struck out there.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he cared much, you should have seen his face when he heard Virge’s voice!”

“I think I’m just thrilled to know that Prince Charming has the ability to shut up. Say, Pat, black or red leather jacket with my muscle tee?”

“Oooh, tight shirt, what time are you seeing him?”

“What?! C’mon, give me a little credit, can’t I dress up for you guys, put in some effort as a good employee, or some shit?”

“You know I don’t buy that for a second… Say hi for me, and go with the red, the buttons land right at your pecs.”

“Thanks, Patton-cake! Dorian texted me after we got home last night, saying he had group sessions today and he wanted to show off that he’s got a badass cousin with a motorcycle. The other kids there make him feel p insecure about his whole appearance. So I told him I’d really up the ante and look the part- Emile Picani’s presence is just a perk!”

“Yeah, and I wear this stuff because it makes me look professional…”

“Oh my gosh, Pat, please don’t try to shade me… It won’t work out for you babes, you’re not Virge,” Remy laughed, peeking his head out to see Patton decked in a teal cable-knit sweater and the tight-fitted pants Virgil had gifted him, cuffs rolled up to just above his ankles, where white socks with colorful quotations splashed against his beat-up Chuck Taylor’s. His hair still wavy and a mop of curls hitting his glasses, he looked more suited to wasting time frequenting a coffee shop than owning one. He flashed him a grin as he tossed him a brush, taking care to shape his own hair carefully with his fingers, slicking it back and up. His own dark-wash jeans were rolled up to land just past the top of his black leather boots. He threw on the warm maroon jacket over the skin-hugging white T-shirt that read ‘Dormire’ in small script across his chest. He primped and preened and adjusted for a few more minutes, running hands through his hair for a swept effect, before strolling out of the room with practiced nonchalance to gauge Patton’s opinion.

“Well, does this say ‘talk about my cousin and I’ll curb-stomp you’?”

Patton did a twirl to take in the full view of his friend’s bold fashion choices, applauding excitedly. “Woah Rem, you look like a male Captain Marvel! Dorian’s gonna flip.”

“Thanks, Pat my love, I’ll take every comparison to the mega-babe legend Brie Larson and the heroine of all time and space, Ms. Carol Danvers. You’re looking like a snack yourself! Virgil, you edgy nightmare boy, you have unknowingly blessed the world with Patton Dilshad’s ass! Whoo!” He hollered, cackling as Patton did a twirl, flapping his hands excitedly before stopping on his heel when he saw Virgil’s clock on the shelf. 

“Eeek!” Cried the peppy patissier, calling, “ Remy, we gotta go, we gotta open in an hour and a half, I have baking to do!”

“What about my bike?”

“I’ll try and call Sloane in, see if he can cover while you’re gone, now let’s get going, I’m waiting on a flat of jam for a new recipe! I’ll tell you all about it in the truck, come on Rems!”

*****************************************************************************

“Rem, can you change the song, I got batter on my fingers!” 

“Sure Pat, darling, any requests?” Remy called back into the kitchen, shifting from his station at the counter and moving back to the secure place where Patton’s phone was plugged in.

“Oooh, oh that one from that movie from the eighties, where the girl sees her crush at the dance, but he’s there with another girl, and she’s heartbroken and running away-”

“Patton, I hear ya loud and clear babe, 80’s jams coming right at ya!”

And as if on cue, Spandau Ballet’s  _ True _ came floating through the small shop, weighty bassline thrumming like a heartbeat. Patton was reasonably cleaned up and swaying in the front with Remy by the second chorus. Then, just as serendipitously, in strolled the tidy and prim Logan. Remy could hardly believe Patton’s luck. Love songs, tight pants,  _ and _ a second meet-cute with the nurse/secretary/intern?, it just wasn’t fair. But he noticed him before Patton had still lost in his daydream, unaware its’ subject was right there in front of the counter, taken with his dreamy trance. Patton was spinning now, dancing with an invisible figure, trying to spur a laugh out of Remy, who’d been grumpy without finishing his coffee this morning in all his primping. He’d been waltzing his way through the gate between the kitchen and into the common area, aiming to lean over the counter and catch his friend with a funny face. Until he spun right on top of his untied shoelaces, eyes fluttering open as he threw his arms out wide to catch his fall. Instead of colliding with the ground, however, Patton found himself with a strong arm around his waist, holding him near-upright in what would have appeared as a strategic dip to an onlooker. Patton’s warm eyes followed the bicep curled around him slowly, up to a black polo shirt and a long blue tie, a lean neck… and a  _ very _ familiar face. Patton’s entire body warmed at the sight of him.

“Logan!” he squealed, hands flying up to cover his bright pink cheeks. Logan smiled down at him, warm and soft and lovely… before taking note of where they were and righting the baker to his feet. He cleared his throat and, failing to hide his own flush, and tugged a hand through his raven hair.

“Good morning, er, Patton, was it?”

“Yes, that’s me. Sure glad I  _ fell _ for you there!”

The doctor’s assistant/trainee/friend with health care benefits threw a hand over his mouth to muffle a chortle at the low-brow joke. Patton’s pretty flush went to his ears, and he grinned at the sound of his crush’s giggle. Remy knew what was coming, and he was bracing himself, recording the next few minutes to send Roman and Virgil.

“Sooo… what brings you to my little  _ Pat-issiere _ ?”

A snort, and a beet-red face meeting a freckled one alive with mischief.

“Did you need a pick-me-up or was that just  _ me _ ?”

A hand clutching a rib and his friend creeping a little closer.

“Awww, c’mon, you can laugh, I appreciate the sound. I just think it’s so cute the way you  _ espresso  _ your amusement.  _ Aforgetto  _ where I am when I hear your sweet voice. I’ve been thinking about you a  _ latte _ . You better be careful with your beverage… no wait, you’re used to it,  _ Hot-tea _ !” And Patton collapsed into a giggle fit against the pastry case when he took in Logan’s shy chuckles escaping, Remy was already sending off the flirty interaction in a group chat dubbed ‘O-gay Cupid(s)’. Logan was laughing, deep and warm and free and filling the air, covering up a loop of Oingo Boingo’s “Weird Science”. The immediate response was muddled by Patton’s ears honing past the adorkable man next to him and into the sound of his latest creation in the oven, beeping. “Not the TARTS!” He shrieked, dashing into the kitchen at lightning speed. Remy once again brought Logan back to reality,  _ great, deja vu… Jealous of Patton’s game? I must be pretty smitten with this guy _ . The medically-associated man pushed his glasses to his forehead for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, a smirk still present on his face as he approached the counter.

“So, is he always this… exuberant?” The tie-clad fellow inquired coyly.

“Patton? Nah, only if he likes you.”

“Oh... well… I must admit I’m-”

“- That was a joke, King of the Nerds, coffee or tea today? Along with a treat for yourself and the good doctor, compliments of a very entertained barista. Also, pro-tip; you want Pat to gush about you forever? He likes animals, mythology and astronomy… or fire one of those puns at him. He’ll swoon, it’ll be adorable like you think he’s cute now? No, you have only seen the tip of the ice-berg. Also, he’s a sap for those rom-com moments, hands brushing, dancing in the rain. If, any of that information is, interesting, to you…” Remy blabbed, thankful that his friend was taking his sweet time in the kitchen. Logan ordered a tea in a tense whisper. Once again, Remy saw his flush and knew he’d made the right choice to tell him more about his perky pal.  _ I better be their child’s godfather… wait, no another kid when Dorian already clings to me, yikes… Plus that would mean something bad happening to Patton, which, I cannot. Fuckin. Tolerate. Besides, Pat’s definitely not gonna be cool with me swearing so much- _

“Should I inform Dr. Picani that we’ll be seeing you later?” With those words, Remy froze over the counter- cups in hand, a hot, red blush daring to peek in his ears. Logan looked pleased with himself as his sarcastic server stumbled.

“I- uh- how’d you know I was coming in?”

“You are transfixed by my boss’s more childish charms, your cousin has a session today, and your clothing is far too tight to be comfortable. Plus the noted second helmet chained to your motor vehicle. Also, you are putting in conscious effort to entreat us to baked goods and other fineries. It’s hardly difficult to figure out. You are very easy to read.”

_ Wow, rude as hell.  _ Logan bristled, straightening his back and adjusting his tie, ever the pragmatist. 

“Okey-dokey then, Sherlock. One Earl Grey( hold the honey, ‘cuz Patton’s sweet enough for you) and a Hot Chocolate for Mr. Universe. Lemme grab Pat for you. He’s the sweets specialist, he’ll want to pick out your treats himself. They are his pride and joy. OH PATTONCAKE!!!” Remy called with a sickly sweet grin. The peppy, preppy pastry-chef popped his head out the door of the kitchen with a look of surprise.

“Yes, Rem-a-lama-ding-dong?”

“1. Please never try to bring that nickname back from the grave, I gladly buried it years ago. And 2. Logan was just about to head out, but he wanted a recommendation on some treats to take with him for later. I told him you’re the top chef around here so he should consult with you. Give him a hand, please?” Patton’s eyes seemed to sparkle as he took in this opportunity. He gave Remy a thankful nod and came outside, embracing the cooler air, with a tray of warm jam tarts.

“I’d be absolutely thrilled to help out! These are my latest creation; not even sure if they’ll make the menu yet, but I’m pretty proud of them,” he began rambling to an enraptured Logan who hung on every word with a gentle nod, “They’re jam tarts with homemade pastry and some clotted cream served alongside. There's this fantastic organic brand that makes all kinds of great jam flavors… Tell you what, they’re on the house. On one condition.”

“Which is?” The employed dude implored.

“You have to give me your honest feedback. You and your coworkers are going to be my first tasters, so I want to know empirically what works and what doesn’t. Can you do that for me?” Patton asked, fluttering his eyelashes and grinning.

Logan seemed about as thrilled as he could be while still remaining composed. “Are you asking me to run a survey and gather data for you and the future benefit of your business?”

“Well, more like asking opinions… but sure!”

“I would like nothing more. I have to confess I may have a slight bias in your favor, I hope you don’t mind my admittance. But I will do all in my power to remain an objective force for the benefit of the data.”

“Awwww! Thank you so so much! If you want to, you can give Remy your findings later!”

“Oh, well, how could I be assured that the information would reliably make its way to you?”

“Oh, huh. I mean, I guess you should tell me directly? Like, you could come by here. I’m closing tonight…”

They both seemed to consider this option for a while, while Remy bagged everything up, a little miffed that he wasn’t considered a ‘reliable source’ when Logan broke the silence.

“I’d love to, but I have a closing shift at the clinic tonight as well. Dr. Picani has three couple’s sessions in a row, two of whom are new clients. I could come in tomorrow?”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t say no to seeing you around here, but there is another way!”

“Oh?” He asked as Patton made himself busy, furiously scribbling on the backside of a business card. He grinned at himself with pride before passing it along to Logan, picking up the bag of tarts and muffins. Their fingers met, and a scene straight out of a Disney fairytale ensued; Patton looked up to find Logan’s eyes on him. He smiled, cheeks brightening. Logan’s eyes met Patton’s and softened, cool fingers meeting warm ones. Time almost stopped for them. Almost. Remy sat on the counter, watching amusedly. Joan had come in with Talyn and they were also spectating the show in front of them in line. Remy couldn’t stand how great this day was going already. He couldn’t help the surge of pride he felt watching Patton put himself out there, giving this nerd his number after only a day and a half of knowing him! It was a big gesture, and one Logan was left sputtering over as he grabbed his things and made his way to the door rather hastily. Patton diligently watched him leave, smiling dopily.

“Call me… or text me! Give me another  _ shot _ sometime! I can feel something  _ brewing _ between us!” He called after his crush, twirling excitedly, hands flapping at his sides as his focus came back. He grinned at all of the customers who came in after that scene. Remy’s phone was buzzing repeatedly in his pocket. He was cut off mid-thought as he was handing Joan their receipt. “Remy, that man is going to be the death of me,” Patton sighed, eyes glazed and hands at his chest, elbows leaning on the pastry case. Remy chuckled.

“Pat, I hate to be the first to tell you, you’ve got game! Logan was a mess! That was awesome, I’m so proud of you babes!”

“Well,” Patton stated, “You  _ did _ tell me I should talk to him. So, I swallowed the fear and just spoke. I know it’s silly to hope and still feel like a giddy, Shakespearean teen, but I just feel so  _ right  _ around him. You really helped me feel better about that last night, seeing you gush over Emile. How we feel is normal…”

“Oh, Pat, you beautiful dreamer, I’m so glad we’re gonna be stupid together. You gotta meet Emile, you know, once I get through seeing him a few more times. Gah, I sound like you did in high school, forgive me… I think I’m nervous.”

“Aww, you must  _ really, really like him _ !”

“I think I do, as lame as it sounds. Do you think I overdid it? I mean, I’m sure I’m coming on too strong. Pat, it’s really stupid to say it out loud, but I’m going to do all I can to never let him go if I ever get to hold that adorable dweeb! He’s got me smiling all the time, Pat. Like, I never smiled this much before, right? There’s something about him, I know it’s him making me feel like I can do anything again. I haven’t felt like that since before we left high school. Back when we all had big dreams. It’s stupid, but, he’s really got me rethinking that whole ‘ride off into the sunset’ plan… what was your dream again, Pat? To be the world’s first Baker-Veterinarian?”

“Yup, I was gonna play with puppies and perfect pastries. You were going to be an adventuring nomad living it up on your motorbike, and Roman was going to take over the world by writing his own scripts, books, songs and being a wildly successful writer/actor/director/singer/model-genius. There’s no way we’d ever guess we’d all be here now!”

“Yeah, I mean, can you picture me traveling the world now? And Ro, running back home? Who’d have seen that coming?”

“I sure didn’t… I thought both of you’d disappear forever and we’d only get like this at reunions with our families. It’s kind of nice to know all of us are human… I never used to think you and Roman had any faults. Plus, all of us trying to navigate all of this love stuff together... It’s pretty unbelievable. How’d you think Dor knew you’d be all weak at the knees for his therapist?”

“We both know Dorian can read me like a book. Sometimes I think that kid knows me better than I know myself!” he couldn’t help but laugh, the mischievous glint in his adolescent cousin’s eye fresh in his mind. “He’s been going there for about two months. I guess in that time he figured out I’m pathetic and lonely and desperate for love. And then he struck like the little demon he is. Good thing he was right, or I’d have kicked his ass for meddling. He knew I’d need a soft place to land after you-know-who-we-don’t-mention.”

“Well, good thing Dorian’s always been smart. C’mon, Rem, you can’t deny that this is a blessing.”

“You’ve got a point there, hun. Emile’s a dream,” he caught himself sighing, “ and this whole situation made me privy to  _ your _ love life  _ and _ Virge’s… and also maybe Dorian’s. Ro says he won’t quit clinging to his little bro.”

“You mean the same kid who gave Roman and I a bouquet of thorns after that production of Hamlet junior year?”

“The very same, Horatio… Good luck, Dor,” he laughed, looking down at his phone before running to the door, “Oh crap… I’m gonna be late if I don’t head out. Pat, my babe, this was a delight as always, but I have a date to keep!”

Patton gave him a tight embrace and a grin that strengthened his legs. He was going to be ready for how dizzy Emile Picani made him feel, even if it took all his resolve. Patton shook him and pushed him out the door with a crazy grin.

“Make good choices! You’ve got this kiddo… say hi to Logan for me!”


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy goes to pick up Dorian from youth group therapy sessions, and there are a few more surprises in store than he bargained for.
> 
> * Warning: Sympathetic Teens! Deceit and Remus are key in this chapter and the next, I won't be offended if this means you can't read these chapters *

Remy pulled up outside of the clinic with a skid, pulling his bike into a spot next to a light blue Cadillac Deville and after parking tore into the building, practiced nonchalance sinking in as he crossed the threshold. He felt calmed by the light green walls and ambient music that filled the cozy space, strolling freely up to the front desk, where Logan sat, deep in discussion with another nurse. He seemed to be in his element; typing a mile a minute, passing the woman beside him papers methodically, barely glancing up at the reception area at all. When he did tear his gaze away from his work, he looked almost surprised to see Remy standing in front of him. But that quickly faded back into his focused facade.

“Ahh, good afternoon… I am sorry, I’m afraid I still do not know your name.”

“Remy Somnus. I’m here to pick up Dorian Scopes from his group session,” he said, maintaining an air of business, or as best he could while still concealing the shaking present in his voice. Logan picked up on this and broke his matter-of-fact pattern, asking,

“How was the rest of your morning? I should hope for the sake of your business that no more, distractions,arised?”

“Huh?” Remy asked, and yet he understood the implications with a single raise of Logan’s eyebrow. “Oh, that. Nah, believe it or not, before you showed up, those were not an everyday occurrence. But, I don’t think anyone minds… my boss, least of all. He says hi, by the way,” he chuckled, winking at the bespectacled man at the desk, noting how his eyes seemed to soften at the mere mention of Patton.

“Yes, well,” came the deep baritone voice, “ he’s certainly… kind, to send me greetings. Your cousin’s session won’t be out for approximately fifteen minutes longer. I wonder if I could take just a few moments of your time to speak to you about, private matters?”Logan inquired, eyes shifting back and forth between his work and the jittery man in front of him. Remy quirked an eyebrow at him, before gesturing to the empty seating area around them. Logan shifted his papers to the other clerk and with a few words was walking with him to sit down. He faced Remy with a tense posture and a queasy look on his face. Whatever this near-stranger was about to ask about, it was going to be serious- he himself was trying his best not to think of anything bad happening to Dorian, or Emile… Logan cleared his throat with great effort to conceal his nerves and voiced his concerns. “Your friend, Patton. I take it he’s a very emotional person?” Ahh, so this was about the blossoming of nerd-love. Remy could handle that.

“Yes, that’s a pretty fair description of him. Why?”

“I simply ask because, typically, in interactions with more, energetic people, I tend to find myself uncertain of my responses. This has been the case with Patton… Except, there are anomalies in conversing with him that I have not encountered before and thusly I want to take care in responding to his request for feedback on the outstanding confections adequately and with care enough to speak candidly. He’s incredibly talented, and the very last thing I want is to mince my words in that regard and risk offending him. I have been told I come off as very coarse. I want to make sure I am not off-putting to your friend.” Remy cracked a smile that was gentle as a knife through butter. He nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay, that’s no big, you’ve got no reason to stress if you ask me. Pat’s a sucker for sincerity and he can handle criticism better than anyone expects him to. He can take it if something isn’t perfect. He may be an adorable puffball, but he’s not made of glass. Speak honestly, but maybe soften your facial expressions. You’ll be fine. He’s looking forward to hearing what you think.” The stern man nodded and considered his words. He offered his hand out to shake, and Remy took it eagerly, grinning like mad. He’d decided at that moment he was going to help this nerd woo Patton as much as he was helping Patton understand the nerd. 

He’d almost forgotten why he was there; spending another ten minutes telling Logan about his and Patton’s background, peppering in some more flattering details about his dearest friend for good measure, and describing Dorian’s ruse from the few short nights ago when they first met- when the double doors at the end of the hall slowly trickled open and teens of varying ages and ethnicities came pouring out into the open space.

“And remember, next time you see someone, tell them to ‘have a nice day’, and then who knows? Maybe you’ll have made a new friend, and don’t forget to have your journal entries done for next week! Dorian, don’t forget the assignments apply to you and your friend as well, even though this is your second group session, I want to ensure you two grumpy gills make the most of this experience… how’s about it giving this the ol’ college try, CatDog?” Came the sweet ring of Emile Picani’s voice, gentle and soft and smooth as he led Dorian out of the larger meeting room… with a grumbling Remus Fellows in tow (which meant Roman could be expected. Great, now Remy’d have to keep Emile Picani’s attention against the most dramatic man in the world). Remy felt his posture stiffen, but he swallowed his nerves, he was here to help Dorian, he kept reminding himself as he put on his most confident gait and sauntered up to where his ward waited. Dorian raised an eyebrow at his cousin’s getup, smirking as he pulled his cousin close to the side of the therapist. 

“Hey, Rem. You remember Remus, don’t you?” came the snarky drawl of his little cousin, who drew his attention to his companion, whose crazed eyes were trained on Remy’s jacket, as though he could willingly set it ablaze with a stare. The boy in question got a firm shaking from Dorian and then erupted with a loud laugh.

“How’s it going, Remy? I see now where Dor gets his roguish good looks from… you deck yourself up to fight the scary doctor man for us?” The teen waggled his eyebrows at him in a way that made his skin crawl. Well, that’s why he didn’t remember liking this kid very much. He had all of Roman’s dramatics and even fewer brain cells. He nevertheless sent a grin down to the ruffled pyro.

“Me? Fight? Never… Unless,” he added, smirking maniacally at the arrogant smirk on his cousin’s face, grabbing him up in his arms and pinching his cheeks, ignoring the bristling, “somebody was bothering my sweet, adorable,  _ baby cousin _ !” He cackled at the shove he received from his proxy, who attached himself defensively to the arm of his friend, hissing something about ‘rotten cousin’ and ‘not a baby’. Remy let loose a free laugh at the look on the maniacal tween pair. Realizing just how much like he and Roman they were, except these two were clearly going to go the route Roman warned him about last night at the bar.

“Well, hey. I don’t think you’re being very fair to your Nani here, Dorian. Remy just wants to keep you happy and safe, but if he embarrasses you along the way, you should tell him so. Remember the agency of your words- when you speak honestly, you’re more likely to get the things you want.” And then it was Remy’s turned to blush and stiffen. The sound of his name on Dr. Picani’s lips was enough to send him into hysterics… or it would be if he wasn’t so damned good at playing it cool. Dorian shot him a glare, but straightened his posture and dusted his clothes of the detritus Remus came coated in and gave his cousin as sincere a smile as he could muster.

“Remy, I appreciate you coming all this way to be my knight in tight leather. But please, never touch my face like that in public again. Or I will bite you. Sincerely and honestly. How was that, Dr. Picani?”

The medical professional in the room seemed lost for words, eyes pouring over Remy’s clothes. He silently thanked Patton for aiding his aesthetic as he caught the doctor staring wide-eyed at his chest. Dorian shook his head in mock disapproval and pulled Remus off to the waiting room, chortling over a notification on his phone. Remy took a second to appreciate Emile’s own choice in outfit today; he was decked in pastels, a white button-down with a pink and blue striped tie, warm tan sweater forgone in favor of a deep magenta cardigan, and at his wrist hung what looked to be a home-made, beaded bracelet reading: ‘made of love’. Remy’s eyes stayed trained on the four-letter word in front of him, trying to swallow the feeling of his stomach doing backflips. There were so many times he’d seen that word and felt paralyzed; shocked still with fear that he’d later deflect and brush off. But there, on the wrist of a good-hearted person, he felt it belonged; it was safe and cared for and natural. He caught himself sighing--

“Oh! I see you noticed my motif for the day! Isn’t the whole idea of Garnet just so, freeing?”  _ Crap. Garnet? This is a reference; not to mention he caught you staring while you were catching him staring… Play it cool. You’re a grown man, don’t get all flustered like a goddamn teenager! _

“Oh… absolutely.”  _ Smooth _ . “I’m sorry if I’m selling it a little too hard,” he boldly whispered to the man next to him, “Dorian texted me last night. Some kid gave him flack about his scars last time and he wanted to send a message. Completely inappropriate, I get that. But what can I say, I’m a sucker for that little demon, sorry you had to see him get all tough with me.” Emile seemed to melt at the mushy sentiment. Remy was holding himself fairly well considering he was a bundle of raw nerves on the inside. The fair face next to his own grinned warmly.

“Yeah I picked up on that when he showed up today, he was stiff as a board, clinging to Remus’s side when one of the older kids came in today for teen group. I have it on the file to keep them in separate groups from now on; so although the getup is, erm,  _ appreciated _ , I think I’ve got a handle on the situation.” He flashed Remy a genuine smile- one that set his heart into marathon setting, pounding so loudly he could swear Logan heard it from the desk! Emile jabbed him lightly with his elbow and pulled him over to where the two tweens sat giggling at Remus’s phone, on which there were videos of Roman being chased throughout his childhood home. Remy almost let loose a chuckle. There’s no way the two transfixed on the screen hadn’t seen them, but Dorian squeezed Remus’s arm and he stared even more intently at his screen, commenting to his cohort just how many different times he’d planned to freak out his older brother in the coming weeks since he’d been home. The shifty tween looked at him, twitching his eyes between his cousin and his therapist as if to snap at Remy to  _ get on with it _ . That was something he could handle, he’d just needed a push from a wired weirdo clinging to his leg, as Roman’s younger brother was. Remus’s eyes conveyed the same message to Remy, while the grin on his face suggested they planned this and several more steps ahead for the pair of adults. Remy craned his head closer to Emile's.

“I think we’re going to be here a while. Remus’s brother is my best friend from high school. If I know Roman like I think I do, he’s sitting at Starbucks across town, scribbling notes in a daze, entirely forgetting he dropped off his baby brother over two hours ago.”

“Oh,” sighed the pastel man, “well, if that’s the case, I suppose I’ll wait with you. These two can be a handful, and Logan’s not always…  _ patient _ with kids. Besides, this means I get to talk to you some more.”

Remy’s ears flushed pink and his face grew warm at those words. He and Emile sat down a few seats apart from Dorian and Remus, who sat entangled- legs kicked up and resting on the other and hands brushing- discussing in harsh whispers and over-eager looks. The pair of adults looked starkly uncomfortable in comparison- hands on thighs, backs straight, shoulders squared. Emile softened his posture and turned to glance at Remy, perplexed. He seemed to have quite a few questions in mind, yet appeared to Remy to be holding back all of them. He was a therapist, his job was to help Dorian in his support system, which he couldn’t quite seem to figure out.

“Don’t be afraid to ask me something,” Remy whispered, eyes trained on the door- he was cool to the marrow as long as he wasn't looking at Emile, “I know it’s a little weird, somebody like me being an important figure in someone’s life…”

“What?! No, that’s not what I meant at all! I just can’t seem to understand something. Off the record, Dorian comes to you for a lot. He told me you’re the first person he calls when he can’t talk to his parents. That’s rare, especially for kids like him, who have problems with trust. How’d that happen, if you don’t mind my asking?”

_ Well, this was  _ _ not _ _ where I pictured this conversation going, but fuck it. Emile’s good, be vulnerable, you trash mammal _ . “Well, that’s a loaded question, but I’ll tell you how. I lived with Dorian and his folks for about three years when I got out of high school. I had completely cut myself off from my folks, who weren’t too keen on my “Life Choices”. I had no job, no skill set, and nowhere to go if things went wrong with the ‘love of my life’, which they did. They took me in and kind of pushed me to get through it. Stop being the pathetic manbaby that I was and begin the journey to become the hot mess you see today. Dorian was  _ my _ constant- even though we were never close by anyone’s standard then, I told him everything I could get off my chest. I watched him when he got home from school earlier than his parents got off, so he was the first face I’d see every day. For the most part, I just vented and he nodded along, trying not to show me how weird it was to have someone twice your age vent to you about their ex and how much their life sucked. Eventually, we kind of just made that a habit for a really long time. One day, Dorian started telling me stuff, too. I didn’t know what to do at first, but eventually, we found our way to talk about difficult things, even after I got my own place. When Dorian first started figuring out his sexuality, he didn’t want to rush to his folks about it, in case he wasn’t sure. He was so convinced it was all black and white… I was one of the only Bi people he knew. He really started to trust me then, I guess he was impressed that I didn’t go running to tell his parents he wasn’t straight. After that all got settled, he’d come to me if something was an awkward question or something about love or sex and all of the in-between. There’s not much I’m good at, but I can tell when something’s bothering him, so he usually just tells me first these days. I’ve done my best not to betray that trust- it’s damn near-sacred, pardon my French.”

The bespectacled man was a wash of warm, soft expression when Remy deigned to look at him again, steadying the thumping of his heart. There wasn’t a trace of suspicion left on his face, replaced by a sugar-sweet stare. His eyes seemed to brighten, taking in the strange man next to him. They seemed to thank him, to search for the words in his hair and past his dark sunglasses. Remy could feel warmth creeping in his face as they sat there, silently counting away the minutes until the comfortable silence was broken.

“Thank you for telling me that, for trusting me with all of that. You’re exactly like he’s been saying you are. I would have thought that an Amazon warrior sculpted you from clay and asked the gods to send you here to be his protector… He never told me anything about his support system outside of you and his parents. It’s been difficult to get Dorian to trust me with his family life, and it’s been like pulling teeth to get him to discuss school.”

“Oh… thanks for the compliment. I trust all of this is still off the record, right Picani?”

Emile flushed, “Naturally. What do you take me for? I’m a professional. I would never record someone’s reaction to being compared to Wonder Woman.” He let loose a peal of giggles that could have melted Remy into a puddle at the cardigan-clad-cartoon-enthusiasts feet. “Of course, I do have my own opinions on the matter, sure, but I’m a therapist, so people feel like they have to ask me for confidentiality before we talk at all. You ever deal with that?”

“Hun, I’m a bartender by night and a barista by day. That’s  _ all I do _ . You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard from the ones we call the cops on. I’ve been the minimum wage earning ear for panicking gays, pining artists, angry lesbians getting screwed over at work, English majors planning a riot for longer library hours, and more. And you should hear what my  _ friends _ go through… It sucks to have so much of other people’s trust so quickly, especially when you can’t talk back to them. Stress has led to many an argument between Dorian and me.”

“Wow, so you’re what some people would call a ‘retail therapist’. Also, I take it you’re the one who’s been sending Logan in with hot chocolate for me…”

Remy’s face was on fire. He was smooth, but not smooth enough to handle direct questioning. Picani continued, smirking at the fiery flush on Remy’s cheeks, “I saw that someone wrote on all of the sleeves. Logan told me it was you when I asked, but he was also acting kind of off so I didn’t think to mention it again, I really do appreciate the gesture! But, I have known Logan for almost six years and he’s never had such a sweet tooth as these past few days, I just can't figure that out!”

“I think I know who’s responsible for that. The other day, Logan came into the cafe I work at and met my best friend, Patton… the pastry chef.”

He gasped, gripping Remy’s arms through his jacket.

“No way… Logan has a  _ crush _ ! That’s amazing, that’s fantastic! I was wondering when EVE over there was going to find his WALL-E. He’s not super social, so I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen for a long time! Tell me everything.”

“Have you seen Sixteen Candles, or, more your speed- the Archie cartoons from the '90s, Doug, or any cartoon in a high school setting? Well, y' know those moments where the boy meets girl and time stops and poppy music is playing in the background? That's what happened when those two locked eyes. Then a show of gay panic and flirting that was way too subtle, but not to worry, those two are smitten, I swear it. Until this morning, when Patton and Logan were locked in their dreamworld again. Patton  _ flirted so hard with him I thought he was going to faint _ ! He supplied your office with treats for the day, and he asked Logan to call him later with news on how they went over. Gave him his number and everything, and they almost had plans tonight, but hey- a win’s a win in my book. There’s one thing to be certain of- nerd love is in the air.”

“Oh, that’s some magic! Who has fairy godparents? Get it?”

“Yup, those two have got it bad. I promised Pat that I’d try to help him get closer with your, uh…--”

“-- nurse.”

“ Your nurse. I can see on your cute face that you have concerns, but Patton’s a total sweetheart, no worries about his character or whatever, he wouldn’t hurt a fly; he loves people, love, and baking. He’s got a good family, no drama. Well,  _ some _ drama, but that can be explained by knowing this- his best friends are Roman Fellows and Remy Somnus. But, fair warning, my dear Bubbles has been through a lot; he’s gotten his heart broken too many times for someone as sweet as him. He's had a couple of really bad exes, and he’s still got the battle scars to prove it, so I’m trusting you to let me know if there’s anything I need to be worried about with Calculator Watch over there. But you can’t ask for a sweeter guy to be your first boyfriend in a new home. He’s the world’s most enthusiastic man, I promise you. I voted for him. You’d really like him, I think.” He took in with a grin how Emile was hanging on every word, his own throbbing heartbeat and warm face a solid reminder that he was still being held onto by the dark red leather sleeves.

Emile Picani was still staring at him with an excited, planning look in his eyes.

“ I don't usually do this kind of thing, but how'd you two like to have lunch with Logan and me after Dorian's next session in a few weeks? As a sort of ‘welcome to town’ thing? I would love to meddle in Logan's love life a little. No fair if you're the one with the inside scoop on all of it… for our friend’s sake of course. I’m a professional therapist, but I can still have some fun with my best friend.”

Once again, Remy's face was on fire. The one question he had burning in the back of his head, repeatedly hammering back and forth in his skull was ‘ _ is this a date, is this a date, is he asking you out on a date’ _ . He could barely form words. The thought alone was enticing; the two of them, conspiring together over the affairs of their best friends. It was so tempting for Remy to launch into the habits that landed him with his last boyfriend- to flirt aggressively, smile widely, darken his eyes and color his words with an all-too-obvious subtext. He could picture them sitting alone somewhere, hands brushing, never wanting to leave the other’s grasp for longer than necessary, eyes meeting and locking, sending the rest of the world spinning away. He found his old habits comfortable, like an old sweatshirt that someone keeps in their car just for when you get cold; warm and soft and smelling like memories you’d like to forget- he could hold his head a little higher, never falter again and put on the posture that made him appealing, attractive,  easy to manipulate like warm clay. He shook himself out of his daydream. This was Emile Picani, pixie man with dreams and goals and joy, not the soul-sucking leech who dumped him so long ago. If Emile Picani was asking him to lunch, whatever that entailed,  _ he would not _ screw it up by regressing into a whiny, desperate prick. That would get him nowhere. And besides, this clearly wasn’t even a date, he wanted to spy on Logan after all. Either way, he’d have to answer to find out.

“Absolutely, Emile. It’s our civic duty to welcome you, two newcomers, to our lovely hometown. Tell you what- text me your favorite foods and I’ll set up a lunch reservation for all four of us. Then, don’t tell Logan until the night before. Tell him you’re nervous that I’ll break your doctor-patient confidentiality or something, and then the next thing you know it, we’ll have those two eating out of each other’s hands. Not literally, that’d be a little too forward for a first meal together situation, but you get the idea. And don’t be surprised if those two get lost in each other’s eyes like in one of those old Mickey Mouse cartoons. The universe is, like, pulling those two dorks together. It’s adorable, I’ll send you a video next time it happens at the cafe.” Emile squealed in delight, snatching his cell phone from his cardigan pocket.

“ Sounds perfect. Oh, this is going to be so much fun! Logan and I have been good friends since med school, and he hasn’t had a date since before I started my first practice! Not to mention I haven’t really seen much of this place, it’s kinda chaotic starting over.”

Almost as if on cue from the word ‘chaotic’, the automatic doors slid open and a huffing Roman Fellows stormed in, eyes locking on his baby brother and launching into a nearly Shakespearean outburst.

“Remus Edmund Claudius Fellows! How DARE you lie to me about having a ride home! Mom called me while I was in the middle of my climax chapter, begging me for information on where you were. You had our parents worried sick and I was none the wiser! This cannot continue, young man! I do not care how much you want your ‘freedom’, you’re too young and volatile to lie to our family and think I’ll cover you! If you ever want me to keep your secrets, you have to expect that I have to be able to trust you not get yourself into something you can’t get out of, that’s just reckless and stupid- hello, Dorian- and I am shocked you thought I was going to lie in order to help you slack off on your chores… wait a minute. Dorian, if you’re here, then where’s Remy? Why is no one supervising you two?!” The two teens broke into a near fit of giggles, snickering in a smug sort of way, an ‘I told you it would work’ sort of fashion (Remus adding in a joke about interrupting Roman’s ‘climax’), prodding each other as Roman sighed in exasperation. Emile had gotten up from his chair and had made his way over to where Roman stood, tugging Remy along with him almost instinctively. He tapped the droopy, drafting, dramatist on the shoulder and met his frustrated expression with a grin and an extended hand. Remy was avoiding Roman’s eyes.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met yet. I’m Dr. Picani, your brother’s therapist. Remus talks about you quite a bit. Roman, yes? Do you how do?” He grinned at him, shaking his hand lightly, reassuring him that the two minors were not left alone. “We were waiting for you to show up so Remus wouldn’t be here alone; isn’t that right, Remy?!” Now Roman’s eyes were locked on Remy’s. They shared a silent conversation of looks: Roman’s raised eyebrow- ‘is this the guy?’, Remy’s wide-eyed stare- ‘ yes. Say nothing.’, Roman winking- ‘alright, cool guy, we’re talking about this ASAP’. Remy plastered a smile on his face.

“Yup, and of course Dor would be worried sick if he didn’t know our dear Remus got home safe. Can’t risk upsetting our little juvenile delinquents. Emile Picani, this is Roman Fellows. My best friend since diapers and star of any public dramatic meltdown similar to the one you’ve just witnessed.”

Roman grabbed the taller man’s hand in his own and shook it rigorously. “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Dr. Picani. I hope my  _ darling  _ brother hasn’t caused you too much trouble,” he simpered, glancing with dread at his brother who sat picking his nails. This comment offended him.

“HEY! For your information, buttmunch, I have been nothing short of a model patient!” came Remus’s bellowing voice, sending Dorian sitting bolt upright in preparation of holding him back, should this lead to a larger confrontation than what was appropriate in a medical facility.

Roman shuddered. “Of course you have, Nightmare on Berch Street. Let’s get going, I have to have you home before supper or Mama’ will go ballistic.”

“But Dorian and I were going to marathon cryptid videos and plan our world domination tonight!”

“Well, you can do that some other time.”

“NO!”

“What do you mean, no? Remus, we all have to get home--”

“-- Actually,” Remy piped, “I’d be down to take Dor to yours for a bit if that’s cool. I haven’t seen you in over three years, we need to catch up. What do you say, Rome, for the kids?”

Roman broke into his genuine grin at that proposition. “ Oh, alright, but only because you’re so desperately needing my time and attention.” A chorus of ‘yay’s and other affirmatives set the two boys running outside, calling a quick thanks to Dr. Picani. Roman took his leave to get them situated. Which left Remy alone again with the beautiful stranger his heart had nearly stitched itself to.

“So, do you need my number,” Emile started, “y’ know, for our little  _ operation _ ?” Remy stiffened.  _ Play it cool, he doesn’t know you’ve already picked your wedding venue, nightmare eyes! _ He pulled a hand through his hair and coyly commented,

“Nah, check your cocoa cup in your office, sugar. Text me later for the details, m’kay. And thanks for being so sweet about Ro, and Dor, and  _ I dunno, everything _ .” He was halfway out the door when he remembered one reference he could make and not look like an uneducated moron when it came to cartoons. He screwed his courage to the sticking place, plucked his head back in and called, “Hey Picani! Let me know if you want to see me again sometime. Maybe we can, do an activity together?” He beamed when Emile gasped and broke out into the widest grin he’d ever seen.

“AVATAR!!” He called as Remy took his leave.

Remy took off dashing up to Roman, who stood waiting by his motorbike with Dorian, who had stuck his auburn hair into his helmet already, having passed his treasured bowler hat to Remus, who danced around him on one foot.

“Remy, how’d it go? Did he say anything? Do I have to keep coming to the group with Remus attached to me?” came the bellow of his little ward.

“Really… that’s what you wanted us to talk about? I thought you two were trying to play Cupid?” Remy asked, putting on his helmet and goggles over his sunglasses.

“Well, I can have more than one motivation, but it would really be really great for my progress not to have to cling to this slimeball for safety.” Remus made a noise of indignation, and Dorian waved him off with a reassuring pat on the arm.

“Don’t worry, small fry. The good doctor noticed you giving your fall guy the death grip when one of the older kids came in- he’s separating you from them. No questions asked.” Remy felt the wind knocked out of him as his baby cousin wrapped his arms around his stomach tightly.

“Oh, my GOD, thank you! That kid was such a creep. Anyway, now Remus and I can shift into major scheming mode to get you, crazy kids, together. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! C’mon! Remus, what is the one thing I always tell you?!” Dorian spun around to call his friend’s attention. Remus snapped into an about-face, preparing for something close to an army inspection. He was still bearing that dizzying grin on his face. Remy and Roman spectated the following scene:

“Umm… eat the rich!”Cried Remus, swinging his fists triumphantly with the beat of his words. Dorian sighed in response to this.

“The  _ other _ thing I always tell you?”

“The bourgeois will crumble under our boots...?”

“Try again. Remember, we’re talking about my dear cousin Remy…”

“Ohh,” he breathed, scratching his head for a moment, until, “AHA! We can do anything with proper planning and enough unadulterated chaos?”

Dorian clapped him on the back, mouth twisted in a twin grin to Remus’s own. “Yes, Remus. Thank you. Prepare yourself emotionally for the most frenzied meeting we’ve had to date. I believe we’re ready for phase two.” The teen seemed less befit to a childish scheme and better suited to a Shakespearean revenge plot, gripping his fingers tightly and cackling.

“YAY, PHASE TWO!!!!... Wait a minute, D, what exactly  _ is _ phase two again? I forgot.”

Once again, Dorian heaved a heavy sigh but met Remus’s eyes with a steadfast gaze. “Let me worry about the details, my little anarchist. Have your new records out when I get there, this will require mood music.” Remus waved him off with a salute as he moved to sculk off to Roman’s Jeep.

“M’kay Dee! I found a couple of queercore records last week, and I found a Sex Pistols lp, too!” He called out the window he’d crawled in through. “Miss ya already, DD! Try not to die!”

“-Or Die Trying! See you soon, Ree!” Dorian hollered back.

Roman leaned in close to Remy and whispered with a chuckle, “I blame you for this, y’ know? You still know the way to my house?”

“Just like the back of my hand… miss ya already, Ro,” he echoed the teens with a playful smirk.

“Alright, see ya soon, Rems!” 

  
The two men agreed silently that the teens were adorable, and Roman and Remus pulled out of the office’s parking lot with a screech. _So_, Remy thought,_ Remus is at the age where pranks include messing with your brother’s car_. He counted himself lucky that Dorian had taken no such interest as the two of them drove away from Dr. Picani and the exciting afternoon they’d both had, and off to a familiar, well-kept home in the hills of their small town. They beat the two Fellows boys home, so they stood outside, leaning against the cooling bike. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What??? You thought I'd skip out on all the embarrassing family content?? Nah, and it's only going to get more convoluted from here!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy and Dorian have dinner with Roman and Remus... Giving Remy all the more room to meddle in one more friends' love life! Meanwhile, two teens spend a good amount of time spying and scheming, hooray for phase two!

“So, I take it Remus was the one who pierced your cartilage?” Dorian flushed, turning to Remy with a remorseful grin and gave him a ‘what can you do’ shrug. “Don’t give me that look, your parents still think I did that… Seriously, Dor. Next time you want an act of teen rebellion and anti-conformism, do yourself a favor and call a pro. I’ll get Virge to pierce you. Just, you owe me way too much to get me put up higher on your Pop’s shit list. A sterilized needle ain’t clean enough to keep you from getting a super-disgusting infection.”

“But that completely ruins the whole thing. It’s a do-it-yourself part of the lifestyle, Remy.” Dorian sighed, rolling his eyes at his cousin as if conformist ideology had taken hold of him like a zombie plague.

“Then at least have Remus pierce you with some real equipment… come down to the studio, or my place... All this for a crush, Dor… I dunno whether to be impressed or worried.” This comment set his cousin to chasing him around the yard he hadn’t been in since Roman was chasing him after his infamous New Year’s Eve party in their junior year of high school. Studded sleeves swung at him, cackling in rage. This went on until the two were winded, and heaving, Remy took a seat on the curb. His cousin plopped down beside him, punching his arm with a force that Remy would have thought incapable out of his tiny frame. 

“You’re a jerk. This isn’t for a crush. I didn’t  _ do this for Remus _ , I introduced him to this!” Still, Remy couldn’t ignore seeing the corners of Dorian’s mouth twitch up as his ears and cheeks flushed.

Before the two could fully catch their breath, the strawberry red Jeep pulled into the driveway with a high pitched whine.

Roman forcibly turned the engine off and hopped out over the side. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I left my journal--”

“-- say no more. It’s no worries, just didn’t want to randomly pop in on your folks without you.”

“Oh, please, you and I both know they love you more than me and I’m their son!”

“Maybe mom does, but if I walked in there now looking like a gay porno James Dean with little Rage Against Everything in tow, your dad would rake me over the coals.”

The two youngest ran inside, coffee in hand and snickers of amusement on their lips. Roman nodded Remy along and then they were inside, warm air shocking his system. The house was still as immaculate as ever, warm incandescent light pouring out of sconces and lamps around the expansive home that practically buzzed with energy. 

“Mama, we’re home. The terror brought his co-conspirator and I brought your  _ actual  _ favorite hometown boy over for dinner!” His voice softened in this place as he called his mother (Remy’s coat in hand, because “seriously she’ll never let you wear anything else if she sees this, and hey you know the rules, no shades inside”), still carrying its signature lilt, but lacking the boasting nature that gave him a sticking place in public. This truly was his home still, no matter how much he’d been pretending California was still holding his heart. But that was a subject to bring up later when his adoring mother wasn’t rounding the corner from the dining room to listen to her eldest son’s prattling. When Camila Fellows' gaze found her boy there with his dearest friend, she lit up, smiling crinkling her olive skin, framing her eyes like Roman’s.

“Remy, _ Querido _ !” And with that, Remy was pressed into a smothering hug that only one woman in the world was capable of, and Remy hugged her back with just as much intention. “Honestly, Roman, I thought we raised you better than to leave your mama and papa waiting when you have guests.” Her embrace left Remy, and he watched fondly as her fingers brushed her son’s arms and he gave her a sheepish look that worked like a charm every time he’d seen him use it. She softened and led them both to sit down for yet another legendary meal that Remy would brag (anonymously) about to Virgil. Virgil, funnily enough, was brought up at this dinner, and from the way Agostino Fellows reacted- nudging Roman in the arm with a playful grin- this was not the first time Remy’s roommate was a topic of conversation.

Camila had calmly asked about Remus and Dorian’s session, to which they politely replied about the activities the group had them working on, when she breached the question, “So, I called you boys almost two hours ago that dinner was ready. Did something happen to the car to make you so late?” Roman shot daggers at his younger brother, who in return sent him pleading eyes paired with a puppy-dog pout that even Roman couldn’t counter. He folded.

“No, mama, everything’s fine with the car. I forgot my papers at Starbucks in my rush to pick up Remus, so we had to run back and grab them--”

“-- and Ro-ro wanted to see his  _ lover _ , the beautiful singer with the scary eye-makeup!”

“He’s not my lover, you brat! And you really shouldn’t criticize anyone else’s makeup- I saw you sticking glitter in your eyebrows the other day!”

Remus and Dorian chuckled at Roman’s huffing, pleased their displays of counter-culture, however small, were having an effect.

“Awwwwww, sure he is, bro-bro. You came home super late last night, your shirt was crumpled, and you came in waltzing around the living room! All signs you’re in love with an edgelord~,” he singsonged, tilting his head so the fade of his fohawk fell in his eyes

“I swear if you don’t quit with this--”

“Hey! Boys, relax,” came the stern voice of their mother, “we have company. It’s rude to ask Remy and Dorian to listen to you two fighting over dinner.”

“Yes, mama. Sorry, mama,” both of them chorused, defeated.

Not too long after their squabbling subsided, and Remy was fully entertained in the knowledge that his best friend was almost shamefully enamored with Virgil, the two young punks asked in hushed tones to be excused, which they were granted, scurrying up the staircase and into a room with a loud slam.

“Apologies again, dearest mother,” Roman disclosed, “Remus still knows exactly how to grind my gears, even now.”

“ _ Mijo, _ you’ve just got to remember he’s still very young. Love is funny to him, especially when it comes to you and that boy you’re writing about--”

“--Woah, Woah, Woah, Woah. Wait a minute here, mom. Ro is Virgil the love interest in your new book??” Roman took no time to turn beet red at that observation. “Oh, there is no way we’re not talking about that, right damn now. Mr. and Mrs. Fellows, thank you so much for a perfect meal as always, but I’m going to borrow your idiot son.” The only way Roman’s parents responded to that was with warm, airy laughter and a few choice warnings for Roman. He pulled him down the hall and down into the den where all secrets were shared from the time they turned ten. Before Roman quite knew what was going on, the two of them were sitting across from one another on a soft cushioned loveseat. “Okay, bitch. It’s been years, we’re both sappy right now. We gotta talk. And I’m not ignoring the fact that you’re in love with my roommate who is at least seventy-five percent wanting you dead for last night.”

“Uggghhhhh, I knowwww,” he lamented sheepishly, “but, Rem, I swear on my Playbills I didn’t mean to set him off. I thought he was being playful.”

“Roman, you can handle this- you’re a stupid bitch when you’re in love. You see a cute guy and all of your natural survival instincts go out the window, dude. What. The. Fuck. Happened.”

“Well, that’s a long story. You know me, I say things without considering all of the implications sometimes…”

“Oh my god, you got lost in his eyes and said more stupid shit, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but--”

“--ROMAN! You are gonna tell me everything!”

“Agggghhhh,” he cried, muffling the sound with his sleeves.

“Dude, rule one of Virgil-ese: Don’t patronize him. Rule two: don’t push your luck. Virge may enjoy teasing way more than the average emo, but he’ll throttle you if he senses you trying to nose your way into his arms. You are going to screw yourself over if you keep trying to be suave. He hates pretension and has a big problem with pride. Hate to break it to ya, hun- he sees right through that shit.”

“Oof. I found my kryptonite, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Think I can handle it?”

“Nope. But you will.”

“So, he called me the ‘thorn in his side’... Does that mean he’s talked about me? At home? To you?”

“Maybe, babes… for about three weeks now it’s been ‘Princey’ made me make this; or ‘ this prick just sits by the window and scribbles- for hours’; or--”

“-- I get the picture. He thinks I’m an arrogant tool.”

Remy met his friend’s pitiful eyes with a warm smile, very Patton-esque. “No, Ro, babes. He  _ knows _ you’re an arrogant tool.”

Roman pushed him off of the sofa. “Come on, I’m being serious. He doesn’t actually  _ hate me, right?” _

“I don’t think so, at least not totally… keep insulting his interests and maybe we’ll be there soon…”

After a heated discussion over the follies of discussing art with Virgil, Roman rolled over to peer down at Remy on the ground.

“Alright, Casanova. I’ve listened to you berate me about how my love life is going. Your turn. Spill, how long have you and Dr.Adorable been a thing?” Remy gave Roman a shove that sent him rolling onto his back.

“We aren’t. But I want us to be… and so do the little radicals upstairs.”

The novelist huffed, “So unfair, two meddling kids have more intel on your love life than me, I’m your best friend!”

“Patton’s my best friend, Virge too. You’re not special, I’m splitting my awesomeness three ways! The basic shit of the situation is Dorian wants me to shack up with his therapist, and your brother's in on his scheming. And I’ve known Emile for two days and I’ve already turned into a massive dork over him.” Remy stared at nothing, recalling, almost phantom sensing the warm feeling of those hands on his chest. He found himself smiling, the same soft, hot feeling from earlier worming its way through him with a hopeful insistence. Roman sighed, tugging his auburn locks stubbornly through his fingers. There they were; two lovestruck idiots.

“So, you think Dorian’s going to get you a husband? And, more importantly, do you think he can tell my brother to quit screwing me over every time I think I’ve just recovered my reputation with Virgil!”

“Maybe, the two of them get on like thieves. Newsflash, I think you’re gonna have to teach your brother how to flirt. Anywho, what happened at Starbucks today, or shall I wait to hear the gory details from Virge?” Remy asked, genuinely curious as to how their situation had fared without the anonymity, and there was little to no chance Virgil would be telling him anything for a few days while he was adjusting to the change.

“Well, awkward, for a little while. I apologized for interrupting him last night or making him uncomfortable. He told me everything was fine, and we made a few jokes about what you said last night. You know, light and dark, good and evil, Montague and Capulet… Jack and Sally... He still doesn’t like me very much though, I may be dense, but even I can see that much… he kept making cracks at me while I was working, I guess since he knows what I do now he’s keen to tease me endlessly. ‘How’s it going, Princey, has your main character walked in yet?’ ‘Hey royal pain, you figure out where the surprise wedding at the end is gonna happen?’ ‘Don’t quote me, Salinger, or else thank me for writing half your jokes’... I was just getting to breaking down the hero’s redeeming confrontation scene against the evil ex-boyfriend (y’ know, where he saves the real love interest from a revenge trap set by the villain) when my folks called about Ree still not being home. So I bolted, barely scraping out a goodbye. I scrambled out to the car and took off without a thought. That backfired as soon as I got back in the car with the delinquent in tow. He threw all my stuff in the back unceremoniously, and put his filthy feet on my dash- and all my things were a scattered mess that I had to straighten out. My notebook was missing. So, with a groan, I drove back there. I intended to run in and ask Virgil myself, you know, make good of a bad situation. But, then, Remus insisted on coming in with me so he could grab Dorian some coffee. And, then, and I say this without mincing words, he entirely ruined everything .”

“Yeah?”

“YEAH! He first hauled in there asking where my boyfriend was, then he kept putting his feet up everywhere… and he practically clung to me while I was talking to Virgil asking if he’d seen my notes. Which then led to my brother spewing the most daring string of innuendos and vitriol that I have heard from his mouth in weeks as soon as he saw the name tag…”

“So basically by being himself…”

“Yes, infuriatingly so… and possibly worse since this involved embarrassing me. He waltzed right over and asked if I was talking to the ‘famous Virgil’, then he went on to list how lovesick I’ve been recently at home- everything from the sighing to the love poems, to him catching me waltzing in the kitchen, and how he quote-unquote ‘ships it’-including how he thinks my new novel is basically “my fanfic fantasy for the two of us getting together and gettin’ it on”, which succeeded in turning me into a tomato and making Virgil laugh at me!” 

“That’s not so bad. Maybe you’re overreacting…”

“Oh, no I am not! Virgil took off to their backroom to check the lost and found, and didn’t come back for about ten minutes (during which I was considering the moral implications of sticking my head under the tires and having my baby brother drive over me) and when he came back, I shooed Remus off to the door, silencing him with iced tea. I did my best to stammer out an apology, yet again. He did nothing but mutter the whole time. But he  _ did  _ find my notebook, and he passed it back to me, opened to the page I’d skipped to… which was my character description page… and he saw my sketches for Oz Stone, the love interest… who  _ does kinda look, maybealittlebitlikeVirgil… _ So as you can imagine, I was mortified and rendered even more speechless. But he gave me it back and grinned, your roommate should not be allowed to have a smile that cute and intimidating! He said I should probably get out before he called child services on Remus for spilling cream directly into his mouth, so I grabbed him and we headed for the door. Just before we were out and I could be free of the torture that was this experience, my dearest brother opened his trap and said, “Later, Verge! Did you know that’s French for penis?! We’ll see ya later, and my brother will be seeing you in his dreams~” in that creepy tone he does when he’s trying to be cute… still think I’m overreacting?”

“No… Nope, I’m just so damn glad I’m not you… at least Dorian’s subtle,” Remy commented through his laughter, which had him bent at middle and wiping tears from his eyes. Roman swatted at him, bemoaning his misery. This exchange lasted an hour longer before they moved to the subject of the two troublesome teens upstairs.

“So, your cousin is a terrible influence.”

“Same to your brother! Dorian wouldn’t be doing half the crazy shit he’s been up to lately without Remus there egging him on.”

“So. What, are you accusing my brother of being the bad seed?”

“Yeah, your brother pierced my cousin, shaved half his head, and convinced him to do a bunch more stupid reckless stuff that  _ I _ get blamed for.”

“Oh, like Dorian’s innocent. Remus wouldn’t be bold enough to be the pest he’s grown into without the confidence your cousin’s presence gives him. Plus, he’s the one responsible for the attachment to punk that’s cost me three of my good coats!”

“HEY, LOSERS!” A crashing call from the two kids sent the two flying to their feet. Remus and Dorian hurried down the stairs from their hiding place by the door, exchanging high fives at the stumbling of their older counterparts. “If you two snobs are done swapping spit-stories, Mama wants you to help me finish the dishes, Ro-Bro,” Remus added, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, buckles clacking against the stone.

“And Pops wants me home in an hour, so he can help me study for my chem class. Also, don’t think we missed your commentary about us. If you’re wondering who the evil one is, you can quit trying to solve that puzzle. I’m evil, he’s evil- we are one and the same. I am his catalyst and he’s my security, we feed each other’s impulses and we have cultivated our own mania. Oh, and Remy, we’d be thrilled to take you up on the offer from earlier. I’ve been looking into a septum piercing.”

“Oh hell no, not until your folks know.” Remy barked, glaring down at the faux innocence in his cousin’s amber eyes.

“Aw, but Rems, Remus and I planned out phase two of ‘Operation: Disaster Gays’ so well, it would be nice to get a little reward for my hard work.”

“One, pipsqueak: I never asked you to set me up. Two, I’m not the disaster gay here, that’s Ro. Three, whatever you’re planning has less to do with me and more to do with the whacked-out idea you two chuckleheads are holding onto that your meddling is going to win out against the minds of two consenting adults with free will.”

“Free will, Schmee will,” Remus cackled, “You’re going to bone that shrink. I can tell already that you’re all mushy for him. My dear brother asked me for all the details on your ‘encounters’, and I told him that you wanna play doctor with Picani and how you couldn’t stop staring at him while he was holding onto you by your jacket… kinky, even for you.”

Remy cringed hearing the vulgar words coming from out of Remus’s pierced, painted mouth.

“Ro, I’m gonna kill your brother, sweets, I hope you’re cool with that.” He tore off after the giggling, lanky boy, who tripped over the sofa as he grabbed Dorian’s hand and dragged them both the stairs and out of the room, flushing all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some of my favorite bits of dialogue from the entire work so far!  
I hope you enjoyed it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy's finally home after this long, emotional day, but that doesn't mean it's over. Virgil has something to say, and he's finally asking for advice from Remy?  
Now that's something worth staying awake for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this one has some more Sleepxiety friendship, Patton rambling, Roman's romantic fumblings, Remy being a guarded little softie, and sarcasm through the roof!  
Content Warning- there's a small joke about past internalized homophobia/outing. There's no hurt from it, and all characters are openly out in the storyline.  
Feel free to share and let me know what you think

Remy opened the door to the apartment gingerly, praying that he wouldn’t wake up his roommate. He listened in as he continued his walk in from the cool night air. He relaxed when he heard Virgil’s guitar strumming away. If he wasn’t waking him, then hopefully he wouldn’t mind a little acknowledgment.

“Virge. Honey, I’m home!” He called, eyes crinkling at the dissonant chord that sounded in response to the noise. Next thing he knew it, Virgil’s door flew open and he was thundering down the stairs to the living room.

“You dick, you almost gave me a goddamn heart attack.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, sweetheart,” Remy sassed, rolling his eyes and pulling his cold brew out of his shoulder bag and taking a swig that he hoped would relax him (his mind was filled with thoughts of how he’d  _ done the damn thing  _ and flirted with Emile, and he had his number now… and maybe a date. His phone had been buzzing periodically in his bag, but he still hadn’t checked it), and it did.

Virgil didn’t relax, however. In fact, he seemed to tighten further, fists balling at his sides as the guitar hung on his shoulders by the strap. Remy had a hunch where this tension was coming from if the story Roman had told him was true. “Virgil, you got something you wanna talk about…”

“Uh, yeah, actually. How much time ya got?”

“Pat gave me the morning off tomorrow and I don’t have a shift till three tomorrow. I’m all yours for the time being… What’s up, Dark Cloud?” he asked, sprawling out on their couch, cracking his neck before gesturing to his nerve-riddled roomie to get comfortable. Virgil settled atop the kitchen counter, pulling his legs to his chest.

“Your friend’s an idiot.”

“Who, Roman? No, I thought he was a MacArthur Genius… but I’m guessing this isn’t just about his IQ?”

“Ugh…” he groaned, “unfortunately, you’re right. But if we’re gonna talk about that, you gotta stop being a prick for a minute and let me talk, or I’m going straight to Pat and never involving you in my love life ever again… 

Nevermind that, I can’t ask Pat about this, he’d gush about it forever and I’d die of shame. I’m putting my neck out even asking you. Shit, I have no fucking clue what I’m even supposed to say… Is it normal to feel electrically pulled to your best friend’s childhood sidekick or whatever? No, of fucking course it isn’t! There’s no way this is a non-creepy thing…” 

“Virgil. Hun, you’ve got nothing to feel ashamed of…”

“Oh, really? My being attracted to the moronic Adonis out of a Danielle Steel novel isn’t shameful!”

“Nope,” Remy confided with some extra pop in the ‘p’. “We’ve all been there, he tends to have that effect on people. You should ask Patton.”

He uncoiled from his place on the counter to give Remy an incredulous look. “No way. Patton had a thing for Roman? Sweet, innocent, adoring Patton with that egomaniac?” 

“Uh-huh, big time. For most of our last half of high school. I had an idiot, too, at the time. You remember me talking about my first boyfriend, Andy? I met him around the time Roman was the apple of Pat’s eye. Patton was just off a terrible break-up when we hit Valentine’s day that year, and Ro took that as a cry for help; he showered him with care and affection- the whole nine yards- balloons, cards, chocolate. He’d meant it as a friendly gesture, but all that did was make Patton think Roman hung the stars in the sky.”

“No shit, he did all that? Just so Popstar wouldn’t be sad? Then he put up with all that?” Virgil asked, from his new perch on the top of the coffee table. Remy cracked a grin at him, now actively disregarding the loud buzzing of his phone. It wasn’t very often that Virgil opened up, much less about the very topic Remy’d been wanting to talk about for months…

“No shit. Back then our sweet little puff-pastry-chef was even more of a hopeless romantic. He confessed before we graduated, and Ro let him down gently. Nothing ever came from it, but they’ve been closer than ever after that.” 

“That’s… really fuckin’ weird, you know that right?” Virgil pried, idly strumming the guitar across his lap. He was still staring at Remy with rapt attention. But the smile on his face was a clear indicator that the knowledge of a softer-side of the author made him happy.

“V, what did you really want to know? I get the feeling you don’t really want to hear me wax poetic about my glory days.”

“Right… I saw him again today. He came back, even after I nearly killed him last night. It was weird. I still think he’s an idiot, but he was like, a different kind of idiot today. I’m not sure, but I think I may have been too tough on Princey. There was this kid he was towing around… seemed like a lot.”

“That’s his brother, Remus. And you’re right, he is a lot. He’s been doing that whole scene you saw to every person Roman has ever liked. Don’t think you’re special,” he chided. “You should have seen it back when Ro dated girls. Remus was a little kid, but he kinda saw through it I think. One time, before one of our dances, he came and stared  _ me _ down for forty minutes while Roman and Pat were still getting ready, even though Ro’s date had been sitting right next to me.”

“That’s great, holy shit I can picture that kid outing you!” He laughed, and the static energy that had seemed to surround Virgil went away, disappeared into the dust in the air. “So, you know I don’t do fast and loose, and I don’t plan on starting that with Prince Charmingly-Stupid. What the hell do I even do with someone like him?” 

The music spinning from Virgil’s fingers was forming actual stanzas now, skipping from pieces to pieces. Whole sections of songs were getting pulled almost out of his head and into the air around him; swirling melodies, ‘Love, Love, Love’ by The Mountain Goats, ‘Asleep’ by The Smiths, all typical Virgil. But as the two sat thinking and stewing in the excitement of it all, it shifted to ‘Wait for Me’ from Hadestown, ‘Somewhere’ from West Side Story, ‘Sally’s Song’. Remy watched Virgil processing, a small grin on his face. There was so much he was excited for when it came to this new side of Virgil, and seeing him soften up for a while because of the fool from the coffee shop was almost endearing.

“Virge, hun, darkness incarnate… the only thing you have to worry about with Ro is him liking you  too much. You wanna talk about last night?” Remy ventured quietly, leaning down to drain the rest of his coffee, actively ignoring the throbbing in his head. This was more important, this was his best friend’s walls cracking open like a walnut shell. This was Virgil, who panicked and cried and dealt with his problems mostly alone, actually coming to him for help. “Or, today at work?”

“Y’know. I can’t believe it. He’s here for all this goddamn time and I never even thought to connect the dots. I mean, a new weirdo loner sits typing at a computer for weeks and sketching in a beat to shit notebook, has all the markers of a grade-a creep, won’t quit flirting with me, finally someone who could put up with my shit… and he knows you two! Go fucking figure.”

“V…”

“Ugh, I know I’m acting defensive and it’s not what you wanted to hear… not how I should be talking about it. But, this shit’s weird and... difficult… and hard to explain--”

“-- which is why you gotta talk about it. You can start by filling me in on what I missed last night at the bar, maybe?”

“Okay, although I do have some, interesting, stories from today. I love Patton more than anything on the face of this Earth, you know that. But, I was freaking the fuck out when Roman was just, standing over us. I was fighting a panic attack, y’ know, holding back the fight in ‘fight or flight’... and then we figured out ‘here’s your childhood best friend who’s been bothering me at work for ages now’. So when Pat insisted he sit with us, I was not happy. And he just kept looking at me with like, pity or contempt or some shit! You know how I feel about other people’s pity. Then, to make things worse, Patton brought up my job at the tattoo shop next to the college. Which led to needling about what my ‘passion project’ is. Which then meant Pat brought up how I used to play at the bar, and over at his place. This then inspired this dolt to grab my arms and hound me about the instruments I play and how long and how dare I withhold such talent from him. Like he knew me at all outside of the green apron and watered down coffee. Then I spoke up; told him off, that since he was so involved with my life, what does he do all day other than bother baristas? Then you came back and I’ll admit he reeled me in with his story, and all of the cool dangerous aspects and scientific facts that people forget about in spy books are insane, so I told him all about blood work and stuff. Then he told me about the use of mistaken identity and twin fingerprints in literature as a trope. And--”

“--and?” Remy inquired, blinking up at him teasingly through his long lashes.

“And, it was kinda nice… until he screwed it up.” Virgil sighed with a deadpan expression.

“How’d he do it that time?”

“‘Asked me what I was ‘running from’.”

“Goddamnit, Ro! He has, like, no filter,” Remy added with a snarl, telling himself to ask Roman what he meant by that with a concerned shrug.

“Yeah, then he scrambled to cover his ass when I called him on it, said he was asking because of the fact that I wasn’t from here… then he said he would have remembered… and I said it was none of his fucking business, poking into where I came from. Why am I here, working at Starbucks instead of chasing my dream or some other privileged dick bullshit.”

“Woof.”

“I’m not done,” Virgil continued, now pacing in front of the kitchen island, “Then he blabbed for ten minutes about how he had no problem with working for a living and living for your work and a bunch of other pedantic bullshit that made me want to kick his perfect teeth in! He still had the nerve to smile at me, and he kept touching my arms… And his eyes were fucking glowing. He looked at me like I was the only person in the world who mattered. Do you have any idea how infuriating that is?!” Virgil’s excitable state was laughable, but Remy knew better than to show his own entertainment in this situation.

“Yeah, Roman’s always been very good at paying attention… to others. He can’t stand to see his own quirks and screwups, and he’s insanely forgetful. Like, for instance, I remember he left his jaw on the floor of my bar the other night. I’m proud of you for that, V. It was a gutsy move, that’s one way to leave a guy speechless!” He gave Virgil an affectionate shove, which was returned with a deep chuckle.

“Well, he came for Tim Burton. I had to defend what’s mine. Social protocol be damned.” Virgil responded with a fond look in his eye. “ You didn’t see what happened when I looked at him, I thought he was gonna die! It was cute. How come you guys never talked about him enough to give me a clue?”’

_ Well damn, I guess today’s the day for deep conversation. _

“Well, after Roman left and Patton went upstate for college things didn't go well for us, collectively. I met *ick*, Patton went serial dating to get over the separation anxiety, my folks kicked me out, Pat’s mom, and a whole bunch of other crap that I don’t even want to think about today.” He confided. “ Pat and I kind of both decided that we’d leave Roman to whatever he was up to out in California, and we’d be there if he needed us, but we knew he needed space from home. We were gonna find our way to him someday. He kept busy enough that he didn’t even come out for the holidays after the first year, so we kind of lost touch. I honestly didn’t think he was coming back, I didn’t know he was home until he showed up at the bar during my first shift last night!”

Virgil’s expression shifted to confusion. “You didn’t even know he was back? I guess that explains last night.”

“Yeah, this is the first time Ro’s kept a secret from us. ‘Specially something this huge… But, we’re not talking about that! Nuh-uh girl, that will lead us to an aggressive spiral into my darkest thoughts and I do  _ not want to go there tonight _ ! So, Ro’s been inspired by you, how does that make you feel?” He cooed with an evil grin.

Virgil’s strumming came to a halt once more. He sent Remy a glare he might have found threatening if it weren’t for the painfully obvious blush on his face. “ I have no goddamn clue how you know that, but curse you for bringing that up. I mean, I don’t know whether to feel flattered or like, super creeped out... He did write some sweet stuff, but that guy definitely looks way too much like me to be a coincidence.”

“I feel ya there. Roman’s a sensitive dude,” Remy began, gesturing for Virgil to sit next to him for this tale, “ not the best at holding his feelings private. If he thinks you’re hot, chances are you end up in one of his books somewhere. His first successful book was about one of my exes. My cousin Thomas features as one of Roman’s first lovers for his repeat hero, Anthony Montgomery. I think he killed him off a few years back… anywho, Thomathy was sooo not interested. When we were kids, all of the pretty people in our class found their way into poems and ghost stories. But his spy story with the gay fakeout love interest makes a lot more sense now, huh. I’d bet you money one of his exes from the sunshine state is playing the role of the ex trying to kill him.”

Virgil gave him an incredulous look, a ‘your sleeves could be on fire and you still wouldn’t care’ look. “You are way too cool with this situation,” he murmured, tugging his fingers through his fading purple fringe. “Why does nothing faze you about this? Are our lives so cartoony that your first thought upon hearing your childhood best friend is the flirtatious moron who’s been driving me up a wall is ‘wow, I guess he’s gayer than I thought?’?? You realize that makes you seem kinda crazy?’

“Virge, hun, we both know I’ve been crazy since day one, baby boy. Look, if I have one piece of sage wisdom, it’s don’t go searching for reasonable answers when it comes to love. You’ll talk yourself out of a good thing and straight into something incredibly unhealthy… Roman’s a great guy, and if you want, I’ll talk to him, tell him to cool it and let you come to him. If not, I totally get it, I think I meddle enough.”

“Well, that’s something we can agree on. Thanks for the offer, but I got it. Besides, I like arguing with Princey, keeps him on it toes.” Virgil smirked, already setting to grabbing his things. Remy almost couldn’t believe this new, bold behavior out of Virgil, and all aimed at the extremely responsive Roman.

“You’re gonna kill him.” Remy laughed heartily, palms clutched over his chest.

“Payback’s a bitch. He’s a giant theatre geek, right?” Virgil inquired with a sheepish grin. Remy could tell he was planning something… he knew enough about Virgil to know not to pry anymore, though.

“Yeah. Huge Musical Theatre fan…” he beamed up at him with a teasing smile. This was fun. He should play Cupid more often.

“Quit smirking like a smartass, I have an idea. I’m gonna head back to my room,” he muttered, picking his things up and starting back up the stairs, before stopping and adding, “And thanks.” And with that, he was gone, and Remy was left alone with a soft expression on his face. It felt a little too good to be true, too much love to take in, and a chaotic few days for sure. He lay there, perched up enough to grin into his coffee and take in the hot, giddy feeling swimming in his chest.

*BZZZT* *BZZZZZZZZT* *BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT*

_ Of course _ , he thought,  _ a little rest is too much to ask for. _ He pulled his phone out of his bag and couldn’t help but grin at his notifications. Patton had texted quite a few times, the last of which was a string of heart emojis. Roman had been spamming him about Remus- he chuckled at ‘HE’S DYED HIS HAIR GREEN, MY SINK…’. He was about to shut it off when he took note of a number he hadn’t saved, with several messages, and froze when he opened them.

'Hi there. Is this Remy?

It’s Emile

Picani

The therapist.

I hope this is the right number…

I wanted to tell you I’ve convinced Logan to come out with us all… I told him you’ve been flirting with me, and I asked him to agree to come on a lunch date with us if you asked me, in case I get uncomfortable. And I’d ask if you’d bring a friend too.

He said yes.

We are a go for Operation Turtle Ducks!!!'

He sat there in shock.  _ He thinks it’s a date.  _ The words kept repeating in his head, ricocheting off the walls of his skull. There was no use fighting it now- he couldn’t stop his legs from kicking out in front of him, nor could he stop himself from clutching a throw pillow to his chest, sighing like an idiot.

His friends would have found this all too entertaining, especially after their own encounters with the overwhelming immaturity of love. But that didn’t stop his face from contorting into a warm, sweet grin. The delight of talking to Emile with no chance of showing how much he was melting made it that much easier for his body to flush and his legs to curl into his chest as he stared at the screen. 

'Ah, well, anyway. I hope you have a good night. It was nice to see you today.- Emile’

_ Shit. Respond. Think of something witty, or make some kind of cool remark, or apologize for existing, anything is better than reading it and staring at it forever like a total cheeseball. _

‘Hey.’

_ Cool it, Casanova, he might figure out you’re in love with him… if you were eighth graders _ !

‘You have the right number, Doctor. This is Remy. I’m happy to be your co-conspirator. Should I pay any special attention to locations for this date of ours?’

_ Oh God, oh God. Panic, confess you love him,  _ _ do something, _ _ anything!!! _ He decided with another seasick look down at his phone that he’d check the messages from Patton, see just what progress he and Logan had made on their own if only to cool down from talking to Emile.

‘REMY!!!! Oh my gosh!!!

I just got off of the phone with Logan. HE IS EVEN NICER ON THE PHONE, HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!!

Apparently, those blackberry tarts were a big hit- he spent fifteen minutes talking my ear off about how much he liked them. I told him about the jam we sourced for them and he told me all about growing up on a farm!!!!! Oh my goodness how sweet is that? HE’s a farm boy, I’m weak… ’

He also told me about Emile~~~~

he sounds so sweet, kiddo! You softie! Although, I guess your clothes were a little much… or just enough??

He brought you up to Logan like, five times after you left.

Were you flirting with him while you were supposed to be protecting Dorian?? TSK, TSK, TSK.

Rems, my little heart is jumpin like crazy. I know it’s silly, but Logan really gets me. We talked for almost an hour!! He complimented the shop and asked me about running the business, and, gosh it was just so nice to talk to someone so genuinely interested in all of this stuff. He asked if I liked to read, and asked for bookshop recommendations.

Oh my gosh, it was just so sweet, and lovely, and wholesome, and good, and he’s so handsome, and his voice gets to me like a hot knife through butter~’

And  _ there _ was the signature string of hearts he’d noticed.  _ Time to tell him that he’s going on a double date _ .

‘Pat, my darlin’, that’s great! I’m in the middle of talking to Emile myself. Today was  _ such _ a day, babes, I don’t even know where to start unpacking all this.’ He replied with a grin on his face.

‘Feel like talkin’?’

‘Sure. Feel like forgiving me?’ Remy asked.

‘Forgive you? For what, exactly?’

‘Please don’t hate me. Emile heard about you and Logan and wanted to meet you. I may have volunteered us for lunch with the two of them? I should have told you earlier, I’m sorry. If you really hate it I’ll cancel ofc.’

‘Oh… well. I can’t say I’m thrilled with how the news got to me, but of course, I’d love to be there. Emile seems swell.’ That message was followed closely by a string of pink and black hearts.

‘Patton, you are the best friend a guy could ask for. I’m lucky to have you in my life, babes! I’ll fill you in on everything ASAP. Literally, you’re an angel, sent from heaven to set me on the path to righteousness and love and all that Patton-y stuff… thank u, my savior!’

‘No problem, Remy-o! Anything to keep my dorky, lovesick best bud happy! I have to be up early, but I can’t wait to hear all about your little rendezvous with your loverboy…’

He felt better just talking to Patton, it was like a magic spell. No matter how embarrassing he insisted on being.

But now, he was almost exhausted from a day of coaxing both Patton and Virgil out of their shells, keeping Dorian safe and unaware of just how much of a disaster he was, making new friends, keeping his heart from exploding around a dorky/lovely/adorable/perfect man with cotton candy hair, and making sure the Fellows brothers didn’t die for love. He yawned and readjusted on the couch, exhausted, but not yet ready to forget all of that once his head hit the pillow.

_ BZZZT. BZZZZZTTTT. _

He hoped for the sake of his nerves that was another spam from Roman. Nope. Emile Picani again, setting his heart pounding and brain fogging up.

‘Well, that is awfully generous of you to ask, you absolute sweetheart!!!

Please consider the following for our little ‘get-together’- Both of us are new around here and I, for one, would like to see a little of the local scene. Lo gets a little claustrophobic in small spaces, I have an allergy to pineapple, and I would particularly enjoy somewhere with good lighting.’

Of course, he would be dead wrong. And he’d never been so happy with that knowledge in his life. His heart quickly returned to its giddy pitter-pattering.  _ You’ve gone so soft, so quick, it’s embarrassing… _

For once he wanted nothing more than to tell the voice inside him to shut the fuck up.

_ BZZZZZZZT. _

‘Don’t you want to ask me why?’

Okay, maybe there was  one thing.

‘Sure, I’ll bite. Why’s the lighting so crucial, Dr. Picani?’

He waited on the edge of his seat and within thirty heart-pounding seconds, he had a buzz with an answer.

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind getting a good look at your pretty eyes, even through those glasses you wear all the time…’

Holy shit, if he thought Emile had him weak in the knees in person.

‘Oh? Pray tell, good doctor, what color are my eyes? You get three guesses, and I’ll neither confirm nor deny until our little matchmaking appointment.

I’ll give it to you, you make a good point on the lights as far as our mission is concerned too. Patton has tattoos that practically glow in the right light. I wanna see how far we can push them until the two of them fold and make out in front of us. 

Goodnight, Angel.’

_ BZZZZZZT _ . One new text- from Dorian. At three in the morning, that could mean anything. 

‘Hey, Uncle Rem. Thanks for today. Unrelated, how do you know if a boy likes you?’

Fuck, this was gonna be a long night.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** Blood TW for this chapter***   
Remy is spending the afternoon with Dorian, and emotions are running high for the teenage cupid.  
And a small disaster brings more of our wacky cast of characters together again... thanks, Remus.

“Hey, hey… get up,” a voice called.  _ Fuck, that’s Virge. What time is it, where the hell am I?  _

Remy’s eyes refused to open. “Get up, jackass. You fell asleep on the couch. Go to bed in your own room before you hurt yourself. I don’t wanna hear you bitchin’ like an old man about a crick in your neck,” Virgil scowled, poking Remy’s sleep-addled body. One particularly harsh jab pulled an angry groan out of the snoozing lump.

“Yeah, yeah, MA! I’m moving, I’m up… quit pestering me.” Remy slumped up, rubbing his eyes in sour distaste. He glanced up to see Virgil… and more of his alabaster skin than he’d seen in the years they’d lived together. If he wasn’t on the brink of returning to the view of the inside of his own eyelids, he’d have smirked at the sight. This was Virgil in front of him, certainly- just uncharacteristically dressed Virgil. This other Virgil stood in front of him looking displeased, donning a black cropped button-down (a gift from Remy that he refused to wear unless he was out of options… or, apparently, scheming) and tight forest green pants with Normal Virgil’s combat boots.

Most surprisingly, more shocking than the scandalous shirt, adding to the skin show was the fact that this other Virgil did not have his hair tucked away. Virgil’s bright purple waves were on display, and not hidden up and away in a beanie. That, Remy could not ignore.

“You sure are classing up the Starbucks… Risking getting fired to see your Princey die of thirst?” Remy inquired with a yawn.

“Ha ha,” came the playful scowl of the punk holding out a mug for Remy, “ I’m not in there till three. Siobhan had her baby early, so I’m covering for her, and Vic's paying me double at the parlor this week. Sorry to break your heart, but no way in hell your best friend is seeing me like this. I have a carefully crafted, corporate-approved aesthetic that normies like your found family can handle. If he saw me like this now, I’d lose my shit… if you’re thinking about screwin’ me over, I’m begging you not to. I am not ready for the fantasy to crack. Me and the walls I have up around my cold, dry heart are perfectly comfortable.”

Remy easily resisted the urge not to roll his eyes into the back of his skull. “Not to worry, oh heart of darkness, I actually have plans. Family plans. Dorian kept me up all night asking for advice on asking Remus out. Obvi, he didn't say that it was him, but I'm not blind. He wants to hang here with me today until I leave to check-in at the bar.”

Virgil's scowl did not go unnoticed. “You know my rule- he messes with my shit, I snitch to his old man about his earring.”

“Don't worry, Penny Dreadfuls, I told him. He thinks you'll flip and go full GG Allen on his ass if he tried to pull anything right now.”

“ Graphic, dated reference… but not far off. Tell the little shit I wish him luck asking out his boyfriend.”

And with that slightly less threatening note than Remy anticipated, the front door was shut behind Virgil, and Remy was once again alone in the cozy silence of his living room… for about ten minutes before Dorian came flying through the door in an uncharacteristic huff.  _ Teenagers _ , Remy thought to himself rather acidly. 

“Welcome back to my home, slugger. What's up your skirt, Dor?”

The heavily chained teen rolled his darkened eyes and threw himself on the couch.

“Men are stupid,” growled Dorian.

“No way, hun. I'll alert the media…” 

When that comment earned no response but a choice finger, Remy moved on with probing the moody teen for information. “What? Did your boyfriend upset you??!”

“He is  NOT my boyfriend. And, I think he likes someone else.” 

Remy glanced over in a soft shock to see Dorian death-gripping a throw pillow to his spike-covered chest, little eyes betraying more hurt than Remy ever thought he'd see from his little anarchist cousin. Remy never thought much of himself for having paternal instincts or whatever, until those little eyes on the tiny face that reminded him of his little brother met him and suddenly his heart was a fire.  _ If that little punkass wasn't Ro's brother, he'd be dead… _ Rather than fantasize about avenging his cousin's broken heart, Remy turned to focus back on the melancholic lump on his couch. “What, I thought Trash Metal only had eyes for you?! Did something happen at school?”

Dorian let out a heavy sigh and sat up, motioning Remy to sit next to him before turning parallel to him.

“You know how Mr. Sanders caught Remus and I spray-painting the alley behind the drama room last semester?”

“Yeah, I vaguely remember picking you up from the Principal's office for that.”

“Uh-huh, whatever, you're my hero. Anyway, he forced us to audition or tech the spring play… and Remus is actually really good at acting, and he's the lead.”

“Okay, that tracks with his genes. Shouldn't that make you all heart-eyes or whatever the gross, punk equivalent is?”

“Ugh, it should have. And then, things got complicated…” The grumpy teen growled with more than a little sadness peaking through his frustrated eyes. He continued his rant in a glaringly fast monologue that would have been confusing to anyone other than his uncle or his dads. “Fuck complicated. Complicated can take a long walk off a short fucking pier. So, this year's show is “Barefoot in the Park”, and there is this kid playing his Wife, the other lead. And, suddenly, it's like Ree cannot shut up about them. We were supposed to hang out today, but he blew me off to “rehearse” with them instead! Ugh, and this wouldn't suck so much if they were a crappy person. But no, they're amazing and gorgeous, and smart and perfect for Remus. With their cute laugh, and dip-dyed hair and their riot grrl punk band, and their mismatched earrings.” Remy sat there, genuinely shocked at the walls tumbling down as Dorian continued to rant. “And they're a great actor. All of that is the shit I could forget, if they weren't so goddamned nice, too!”

“Dor…”

“Uncle Rem, pleaaaaaaaase shut the hell up for once in your godforsaken life.”

“But, SnakeBites, it sounds like--”

“-- Like I have no shot with him whatsoever, anymore… we agree on that. I can't compete. Not with May Asher. That's not even their full name. No one in the whole county knows it. And they are way nicer than they should be, it’s confusing! I thought all of us queer people were supposed to be fucked up.”

“Dorian, I think I have--”

“--An iota of a clue about this whole situation? You don't. They were at the top of my shit list when this whole infatuation started, until my birthday a few weeks ago. They ran up to me after chatting up Remus before rehearsal. They said hey, and that they liked the jean jacket you helped my dad pick out for me. Yes, I know about that, I know everything… moving on, they asked if it was true that it was my birthday. I said yes, and emphasized how much I hated people fussing about it. And then, they just nodded along all coolly, and said they 'know the feel'. Apparently, Remus told them. They looked at my jacket again, and without so much as a fucking glance, they reached down and ripped this patch off their own jacket and told me it would be a good way to get my own started. And they just skipped away, grinning like a damn sunbeam.” 

With that all spilled from the depths of his jet black covered skull, Dorian repositioned the pillow to cover the pitiful scream he pitched into its cushion. Remy glanced down at the faded denim. 

“Okay, 'respect existence, or expect resistance', what's wrong with that?”

“Not that one,” he whined, “you know Pops got me that one, after the fact, obviously. I practically begged him to get me another patch so I didn’t look pathetic… it's this one.” 

Dorian's chipped black nails pointed to the pocket over his heart, where a circular patch of a multicolored snake sat surrounded by stars. The clearly homemade patch only confirmed what Remy had suspected. 

“Ohhh, Dor, my little Atilla, sounds like this kid is totally into you, too. And, don't shoot the messenger, but it also sounds like you're not just jealous about Remus…”

Remy's neck hurt watching how quickly Dorian's head sprung up from its nest.

“What, but that can't be right. I like Remus. I'm gay, aren't I? I can't like someone else at the same time!”

Remy cleared his throat awkwardly, talk about out of his depth. “Actually, you can. It's still gay if so, just different gay if you do. Or maybe, you just think they're cute. All of that happens, it's completely normal.”

“But…” Dorian managed to squeak out before retreating back into the sanctuary of the pillow.

“D? Is there something else you want to know about? I'll tell you, whatever it is. SnakeBites, I'm never going to judge you about this. You can tell me anything and it stays here with me unless your folks  _ have  _ to know to keep you safe. You know that, right?”

With a groan, Dorian replied, “Yes, I know. I'm sorry, it's just so hard. I feel like I'm jealous of them both, and- also like, I don't want to stop them from liking each other, but I want them to like me too, both of them, it’s so weird and I can’t make sense of it… I just--” Dorian cut himself off with a frustrated sigh.

“--Want them both to be happy. Even though you like them both, too.”

“Yeah. I feel like I want to hide from them both the same way, and yet I feel all hot and like time doesn’t matter when I’m with them, and like... Ugh, what does that even mean? Have I gone totally off the wall??!!”

“Well, it could mean you’re bi, just like your favorite uncle…”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself, I’ve known that part for at least two months now... “

“Okay, rattlesnake, regardless of your rude ‘tude, anything else you wanna know?”

“Why do I want to do sappy date things with both of them, why do I want to hold both of their hands at the movies or other stupid, normie crap? What does that mean for me?”

After a long discussion about polyamory and different kinds of attraction, both subjects Remy did not consider himself an expert in, he looked down at the lump sitting next to him and couldn’t help but coo to himself at Dorian's little grin, head resting in his lap and eyes blinking up at the ceiling. Then, Remy spotted the patch again, and with a grin, decided he wasn’t above stirring the pot and provoking his nephew some more.

“Soo, like I said earlier. This kid totally digs you. That patch says it.”

“No way. Out of my league. You’re lying and I hate you for how wrong you are.”

“Uhh, hell yes, way. That’s homemade. Probably their first one. Pretty sweet gesture, hmmm…” Remy snickered, “Not to mention, the whole 'giving you their patch thing' is classic edgy kid flirting. Like marking their territory so other e-kids back off.”

“And you know this how?”

“V told me he used to do that when he liked someone, like when he was head-over-Docs for this guy back where he went to grade school--”

_ *Brrrrrrrrrrrring brrrrrring brrrirng* _

“ Hang on a sec, viper face, I gotta take this…”

“Same, Ree’s calling me.”

“Hello?” They both chorused “No! He did what?! Okay, okay, I’m leaving.” They hung up and stared at each other.

“Any chance you're headed to the tattoo parlor? My best friend needs me.”

“I need you to quit screaming for five seconds, you slippery cephalopod!” 

“Someone, hold him still, I’ll only make things worse if I try to fix anything for him now.”

“FUCK! SHIT, FUCK! HOLY SHITTING GOD! CHILDREN OF THE FUCKING CORN! I’M DYING, THIS ISN’T HOW I WANTED TO GO!”

“Everyone stop and breathe, for the love of the GODS! I’ll distract him… Focus on me, Cephy… Re, I’m right here, remember how Mr. S had us do that exercise about eye contact? I need you to do the same thing now...”

Needless to explain further, Remy and Dorian arrived at the sight of a chaotic mess. Remus lay, shirt reddened and tall adolescent body squirming, with a large safety pin stuck partially through his throbbing left upper helix. He was laid out on a tattoo table in the back hall of the studio with his eyes fixated on the frame of the tiny person to his right, who sat in a stool, gently singing. Roman and Virgil and all the rest of the noise grew quiet as the wiggling settled, and the dulcet tones of the small person's voice filled the air and Dorian froze in his spot by the door. 

** _ Driving in your car _

_ Oh, please don't drop me home _

_ Because it's not my home, it's their _

_ Home and I'm welcome no more _

_ And if a double-decker bus _

_ Crashes into us _

_ To die by your side _

_ Is such a heavenly way to die _

_ And if a ten-ton truck _

_ Kills the both of us _

_ To die by your side _

_ Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine** _

The tiny, almost ethereal form of May Asher kept crooning lowly as if lullabying the uneasy Remus to sleep, and even though the world continued on moving just as it had, Dorian Scopes still stood where he had when he had entered. He was staring all too obviously. If anyone had been looking, they would have seen the besotted look on his face all too clearly. He was blessed with the chaos that provided him with cover. It was nearly visible on the poor tween’s face how his words with Remy were reverberating in his head. He stood there staring at May and Remus, a little sheepish when Remy came over and pushed him over to the table with a smart-ass grin. 

Soon the music stopped and Remus seemed to snap right back into reality- his gross, bloody, stinging reality. 

“Aaugh!!! I admit you’re good, wifey, but god damn it, nothing takes away the fact that my blood is leaking out of my ear.” He raised his eyes to the incandescent lights above him and folded his hands in prayer. “ God, Satan, Stephen King, when will the FUCKING burning end!! Fix me quick, brother lover, or I’ll die on your table!” He cried petulantly, wriggling in discomfort on the cold steel, turning his pitiful little face up to Virgil who met him with a calm expression.

“I’ve barely touched you, D-I-Y dipshit. Don’t worry I found some numbing spray in the back we keep for first-timers and kids. You won’t feel the rest in a minute,” Virgil replied, feeling only a tad nervous when little Dorian fixed him with a scowl and a murderous stare to accompany it. Remus followed the tattoo artists’ awkward gaze to where his best friend stood beside him indignant and enraged.

“Dee-dee! You made it! My hero, come to rescue me in my time of crisis?”

Dorian didn’t respond, but took one of his oldest friend’s hands and squeezed it reassuringly. Off to the side, since Remus was no longer thrashing like a ferret at bathtime, Roman and Remy sat chatting away in hushed tones.

“I can see the family resemblance now. He’s you if you didn’t have Patton!” Remy laughed. Roman gave a weak chuckle. He was never good with blood, and seeing Virgil on hand when he came in with a bleeding boy was not sitting well with him.

“Remy, I feel I may have missed something… why the hell is all this funny to you?!”

“ Oh, sweet, sweet, innocent Roman. I know so much you don’t… I’m just enjoying the show here. All I’ll say is keep your eyes on those three carefully… we are witnessing the beginnings of young love.”

Roman eyed the tiny teens suspiciously… like, Disney-cartoon-Cupid-type-sidekick suspiciously. Shifting his gaze from his brother to the pair beside him and back to Remy in a dizzying process that seemed to be the only thing helping his brain to think through it. In a clearly scheming manner, he looked over at his brother being fussed over by two other children with tight smiles.“No way… you don’t think?”

Remy answered with a smug nod. “So, how was your day going before the blood hit the floor? I highly doubt you were ready for seeing Virge today…” That earned him a panicked look more commonly associated with Patton than with his boastful friend. Seeing him flush was far more satisfying an act of revenge than the long-winded plan he’d come up with the night before.

“I  _ absolutely  _ _ was not _ . I look like I spent this morning sleeping next to a raccoon that mauled me!” He whined, dragging his fingers across his under eyes, which were sunken in and turning a very dark, sallow color against his normally glowing skin. This was an expression Remy knew well. 

Roman had developed a certain heightened sense of perfectionism when in the midst of writing, and when he was stuck on a certain point in the story, he wouldn’t sleep until he could navigate it. This made him into somewhat of a hermit while tackling the stress- he barely ate, drank, or left his desk, sitting with the plot rattling in his head until the right pattern of events fired in sequence and he’d sort out his work before hitting his bed and not leaving it for two days. It was a comfortable habit, and one he knew would work. Just like it would have today had his brother’s blood-curdling scream of pain not woke him from his daze. 

Roman continued with a yawn, “And then seeing him standing before me like an adonis-type hunk of a man carved from marble?? I could have died. This is both my worst nightmare and a total day-dream to me. Remy, tell me something since I’m your best friend--”

“Patton’s my best friend.”

“-- am I awake? Is this real, or am I hallucinating on my bedroom floor? Virgil doesn’t look like that, there’s no way my baby brother has more game than me, and you are actually smiling? You hate smiling. You told me once that smiling makes you ugly, why are you smiling, am I losing my mind here?!”

“Ro, babes, chill out please,” Remy commented with a smirk, “focus on getting through this and then telling your parents about it. The rest will come later. In short, cool off and shut up.”

“Holy Hera and Zeus, you’re right! My parents are going to absolutely kill me over this. Remus does terrible and/or messy things all the time, usually, with the excuse he was unsupervised. I’m his supervision! Not to mention the mess I’ll be in when my mom finds out by the fact he has a safety pin in his ear!”

“Roman, I’m not Pat, so I’m not gonna sugarcoat this to comfort you or whatever- your mom is going to raise hell and high water. She is gonna set the world on fire with her righteous mother power, and that’s going to be directed at you because Remus is her baby who gets away with everything. But on the bright side, you took him to a professional piercer who has dealt with way worse, I would know,” Remy noted in a tight whisper.

That seemed to sober Roman up enough that he could glance over at the table again. There, the two teens crowded around his brother were methodically petting his hands and chatting away, effectively distracting him from the young man above him. 

Virgil had a relaxed focus on his face as he worked away undisturbed, his brows drawing in as he removed the pin. He didn’t wince at the blood, gently swabbing it away, locating the half-finished hole in the tiny helix of cartilage, moving through the motions of fixing the piercing with almost elegant precision. His hair was falling out of his loose ponytail, and slightly hiding his eyes behind deep aubergine locks, but it didn’t deter him in the slightest. He went back to his work with one sweep of tucking back a few loose strands behind his own pierced ear. All of which Roman was observing with almost an almost reverent dedication.

In about fifteen minutes, the entire bloody affair came to an end, with Remus’s ear quickly re-pierced and a clean earring placed there, no doubt one that would be replaced in due time with another safety pin, but would tide over the feral weasel-boy until he was safe to do so.

“Hey, Prince Underarm Stink! I need to talk to you,” called the towering tattoo artist. 

To say Roman’s head snapped up like one of those cheap bracelet things kids buy at book fairs that double as a bracelet and a bookmark was accurate, and the popping in his shoulders made Remy wince as he got up and strolled over with as much practiced grace as he could muster in his daze of drowsiness.

“Yes? I’m here. Is something wrong?” he inquired, doing all in his power not to stammer. Or yawn.

“Yeah, no big deal this time. But next time this happens, take him to an ER first, they’re certified to deal with blood, I just do it because it comes with the job.”

Roman’s ears were burning hot and he was not afraid to look Virgils in the eyes as he sheepishly replied, “So sorry. I panicked, and this place was the first place I thought of. What do I owe you fixing my brother… and I’m willing to financially compensate for his crudeness… or for a hearing aid.”

Virgil let out a breathy chuckle. “It’s all cool, I’ll get him rung up for a piercing and we’ll call it a day. You did finish those papers right? I don’t want anyone in legal trouble for this?”

“Oh, yeah, uh… here you go.” Roman passed him over a long-abandoned clipboard, which was given a once-over by the watchful eyes of a gentle giant and a scheming sleep-deprived Remy.

“You’re all set then. Bring him back in two weeks so we can make sure nothing is infected, and good luck explaining this.”

Roman nodded along faithfully before turning back to where Remus was with his friends, bloviating about how cool it looked, not even caring about the heart attack he’d given his brother.

“Excuse me, trash goblin and company!” he called. “We have to get headed home, so Mama and Papa can kill me and so your little friend can get home, I’m sure their folks had no clue that this afternoon would involve blood and needles.” He hurriedly ushered Remus to the door, followed by a paled and quiet May. All of the trio left inside could tell this was Roman not so cleverly trying to avoid his brother’s interjections…

And that never worked.

“Later, Pretty Emo! Thanks for stabbing me correctly! We’ll see ya next time Ro-Bro’s thirsty for Edgelord ass!”

A little bubble of giggles erupted when they watched Roman facepalm as he led the way back to his car with exasperated mumblings.

“Well, that was not what I thought I was gonna be doing today,” Remy sighed, shifting a teasing glance over to Virgil. “How about you, Virge?”

“I will kill you where you stand.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work I have published! Let me know if you want to see more! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
